If You'll Have Me
by Lass of the Lake
Summary: Valena Lavellan struggles between her duties as Inquisitor and her duties as a mother. Gregory Hawke is ready to lay down his mantle as the Champion. When they come together, there's friction, kinship and an unspoken understanding of feeling like everyone is counting on you. Together, they just might able to handle the weight of the world.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Man, the Myth, the Champion

* * *

Valena stood on the battlements, waiting for Varric and his "friend" to arrive. From the way Varric had talked about this friend, Valena had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly who would be meeting her here at any moment, but her patience was wearing quite thin and she was antsy. She'd left her little ones with Josephine for now, knowing that a screaming toddler was not a selling point for a possible alliance/ally, nor was the incessant prattle of a four year old who wouldn't stop saying, " _Mamae_ ," over and over and over again. Still, she missed the weight of Balor on her hip and Miri tugging on her hand for attention.

A moment later, Varric appeared through the door, and Valena sighed, upset to see that the alleged friend was not behind him. "Well, where is he, Varric?" Val asked, the impatience clear in her clipped tone.

"Keep your shirt on," Varric replied in a jovial manner, seemingly unruffled. "He should be here at any moment."

Generally, Varric was one of Val's favorite people. She loved taking him with her on adventures and he was pretty good with her kids, Miri especially, who was at the age where a good story was the best thing in the world. However, at the moment, she wanted to shoot a blast of lightning at him, or possibly push him over the side of the fortresses walls. They'd spent weeks getting to Skyhold, a few nights further getting her quarters as the new Inquisitor set up and now all she wanted to do was tuck each of her _da'len_ under an arm and sleep for as long as she could. But no, she was on the battlements in the freezing cold, waiting for a mystery man.

Val sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, silently counting down from five before she did something she'd regret. "Varric, I swear by the dread wolf that I will-"

"Sorry to keep you waiting," a deep voice cut in. The voice took her by surprise and Valena whirled around, hand automatically extending defensively and crackling with little electric sparks. The man immediately put his hands up in the classic, 'I mean no harm' manner, eyes widening. "Whoa, sorry. Thought you were expecting me."

Valena caught herself and straightened, the crackles emitting from her hand fading into nothing. "I was expecting you. I apologize," she replied stiffly. The first thing Valena noticed about the newcomer was that he was _very dashing_ and that stunned her, if only for a moment. It was unlike her to be so quick to notice the attractiveness of another. Nevertheless, she did not let this deter her as she sized up the Champion who looked exactly as Varric had always described. He was a tall, barrel chested man with a messy crop of midnight hair that was a little on the long side and swept over his baby blue orbs. Equally dark hair was groomed into a neat, rugged beard, concealing what was no doubt a strong, defined jawline if his high cheek bones and proud nose were anything to go by. Possibly most notably, a swath of red was smeared across the bridge of his nose haphazardly. He wore light armor, very different from the Orlesian and Fereldan armor she'd familiarized herself with already. His pauldrons were furry, his breastplate had an almost shield-like extension rose up to cover a small section of his chin and his gauntlets were rather pointy. That didn't seem practical, she noted to herself. And a staff was slung across his back, announcing that he was a mage, just like her.

A smirk split his serious expression, turning him from handsome to roguish in the blink of an eye. "Jumpy are we, Madam Inquisitor?"

Valena, already annoyed by being kept from her littles, only grew more annoyed at his expression and his use of the the word Madam, which she found distasteful and too close to madame. She crossed her arms across her chest defiantly and glared daggers at him with hard green orbs. "Just 'Inquisitor' will be fine," she sniped.

Her tone was sharp enough that the men exchanged a glance, Hawke's brow raising a fraction and Varric giving a minute shrug in response. The Champion recovered quickly, though, his time in Kirkwall having been a study in powerful figures taking an instant dislike to him and him learning to work around that. "Where are my manners?" he asked, his tone still light and jovial despite the Inquisitor's ire. "My name is Gregory Hawke. You might know of me as the Champion of Kirkwall, though that's not a title I use much these days." He swept a little bit of a bow here, giving her another grin when he straightened back to his full height. "You may call me Hawke or Grey, if you like."

If Hawke had been expecting her ire to lessen, he'd been a fool. She was still just as cold when she replied, "And you may address me as Inquisitor or Inquisitor Lavellan."

Sensing this meeting was not going quite as smoothly as he'd hoped, Varric stepped in, hoping to soften Valena a little. "Hawke, the Inquisitor," Varric introduced, as if she hadn't already made her title perfectly clear. "I figured you might have some friendly advice about Corypheus. You and I did fight him, after all."

A little bit of stoniness left Val's expression, replaced by curiosity. Gregory picked up on the shift, casually leaning on the side of the battlements and deciding to try a little bit of flattery on the iron woman before him. "Well, Inquisitor, you've already dropped half a mountain on the bastard. I'm sure anything I could tell you pales in comparison."

If Hawke wasn't imagining things, he thought he saw the edge of her lips quirk up just a tad in response and her voice was definitely not as harsh as it had been when she said, "Corypheus has already killed the Divine along with countless others, and he'll kill a lot more... unless we stop him."

That was a little bit of progress, at least, Hawke noticed. The use of 'we' signified that she was, at the very least, willing to work together.

Before Hawke could reply, a guard came sprinting through the door. "M'lady!" he exclaimed, sweeping a quick abbreviated bow before blurting, "Balor fell and scratched his hand on Lady Montilyet's fireplace and now he won't stop crying for you."

" _Fenedis,_ " Valena swore before turning to Hawke, "I apologize, Ser Hawke. If you'd just follow me, we can resume our meeting after I take care of this."

Gregory barely managed to nod before she gave him a little grateful smile and took off, running down the stairs with urgency. Before he followed, Gregory leaned down and softly asked Varric, "Who's Balor?"

Varric chuckled. "Balor is her two year old."

Hawke was struck dumb. For one, he'd never heard of the Inquisitor being married or otherwise involved with anyone. For another, he couldn't imagine the iron lady who greeted him nursing a scratch for a toddler. Intrigued further, Hawke, along with Varric, followed Valena down the stairs, though she was already halfway across the courtyard and she had disappeared into the fortress before they even made it down the stairs. Luckily, Varric seemed to know where they were headed since he didn't even pause before leading Hawke through a door off to the left of the main hall.

The woman who stood in the middle of the room they entered, holding onto a mocha skinned toddler who still had tear tracks staining his cheeks and was hiccuping into her shoulder, barely even resembled the woman Hawke met on the battlements. The dark red hair, green eyes and vallaslin were the same, but her face was soft and her voice was softer as she lovingly cooed in elvish to the little boy she held. She gently bounced him up and down, reminding Hawke of his own mother when Bethany or Carver had cried when they were little. The little boy's hands, which were several shades darker than her skin, Hawke noticed, were grasping bunches of her shirt in tiny clenched fists and his face was buried into her shoulder, though teary eyes did peak over at him, both hesitant and curious.

Another woman stood over by the desk in the corner of the room, wringing her hands. She was dressed in finery, all gold and blue, and looked to be Antivan or Rivaini, if her dark and silken looking hair, high bridged nose and darker complexion were any indicator. "My apologies, Inquisitor," she began, "I swear I didn't take my eyes off him but-"

"It's okay, Josie," Valena soothed, warmth and sweetness radiating from her tone as she continued to bounce the little boy on her hip. "He's going to fall from time to time. And anyway, I think most of these tears are because he missed his nap today and is tired." So saying, she adjusted the child in her arms so that he was facing her, rather than burying his face into her neck with the ease of a practiced mother. Her other hand came up and brushed his tears away with her thumbs. "Isn't that right, _da'len_?"

The child in question gave a watery giggle. " _Mamae,_ " he said, wrapping his arms around Valena's neck in a tight embrace.

Valena accepted the hug with a beam of motherly pride, gently stroking the nape of her son's neck and playing with the ends of his dark hair. "Hey, Josie, where'd Miri go?" Valena asked, looking over her son's shoulder at the Ambassador.

"Oh, yes, Warden Blackwall wanted to show her a toy that he carved for her," Josephine asked, seeming much more at ease now.

Valena nodded in understanding. "Can you send someone to tell Blackwall to bring her to my quarters? I feel like both of them could use a rest."

Josephine inclined her head in acquiescence. "Of course, my lady."

The Inquisitor turned to exit the room, and then paused when she came face to face with Hawke and Varric, as if just recalling the presence of the two men who'd followed her here. "Oh, Josie, this is Messere Gregory Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall." Grey winced at the title, hating the familiar sound of delight and surprise that escaped the Ambassador because it meant she had _questions_. "If you would, _entertain_ him till I return." And, if he wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw a little, teasing smile on the elven woman's face as she brushed past him, child in tow.

 _Hmm, so she isn't made of stone after all_ , he thought to himself as he turned to watch her leave.

Valena did not return for half an hour or so, during which Josephine peppered him with questions. Varric excused himself early on in the Inquisitor's absence, fearing that now that Hawke's presence was known, it wouldn't be long until the Seeker showed up to kick his teeth in for lying, leaving Hawke to fend for himself. Josephine was delightful and curious, but oh, Maker, he was tired of reliving his days as the Champion. Isabela's and Anders' betrayals still burned in his chest when he thought of them and he missed his mother and sister terribly. So he may have stood up a little too quickly when the Inquisitor appeared once more, now sans toddler. "I appreciate your patience, Ser Hawke. A mother's work is never done." A small smile played at the edge of her lips before she gestured to the door in invitation. "Come, it'll be better if we finish our discussion in the garden."

Hawke blinked, stunned at her sudden friendliness, but gathered himself quickly. He nodded, and, before he could stop himself, stuck out an elbow for her to take so that he could escort him. His mother would be proud - he, however, was mortified. Her brows shot up and she stared at the offered elbow like it was an entirely foreign object. Hawke worried she wouldn't accept it with the Ambassador as witness to his shame, but after a moment, she slowly wrapped her lithe fingers around the proffered crook.

Valena easily instructed him on the path to the garden, though let him do the actual escorting. Once they arrived, she separated from him and heaved a sigh. "I must apologize for my behavior earlier, Ser Hawke," she began, not meeting his eyes, but looking over the garden, which was still a work in progress. Piles of stone were stacked on one side, the well was still boarded up, and there were some minor debris left to be cleared from years of disuse. "I sometimes feel that my duties as part of the Inquisition keep me away from my children too often, especially now that I have been named Inquisitor. I took my frustration out on you. That was unworthy of me. I hope you will forgive me."

"I appreciate the apology, Inquisitor, though you do not owe me one," he replied with sincerity. She met his gaze, a clear question in her eyes, to which he expanded, "I could not imagine being a parent when I was the Champion and I was just responsible for a city, not half of Thedas and a breach in the sky besides." Grey shrugged, noncommittal. "But please, Inquisitor, just call me Hawke."

Valena's lips quirked upwards again, her smile looking even somewhat playful. "Alright... Hawke," she said, testing out the name on her tongue, then offered, "And I suppose it wouldn't be terrible if you were to call me Valena." Suddenly feeling a bit shy, she clasped her hands behind her back and scuffed the toe of her boot into the dirt.

"Can I call you Madam Valena?" he teased. She looked back at him dryly, any bashfulness fading from her expression.

"Don't push it," she warned.

Hawke laughed jovially, but put his hands up in surrender. "As you wish, m'lady."

Valena shot him a playful glare, but couldn't seem to completely wipe the smile from her lips or the sparkle from her eyes.

Silence stretched between them for a while, but it wasn't uncomfortable or tense. Valena looked almost serene now and Gregory was just... enjoying her company, now that he was sure she wasn't going to fry him. And, Maker, he didn't mind looking at her either. The rumors he'd heard had not been false - she was quite beautiful. Her hair fell in gentle crimson waves, her eyes were the vibrant green of the forest and her features were soft and feminine, even the vallaslin that surrounded one deep green orb curling softly in on itself, lighter than most he'd seen as her's had been done in white. Still, a question kept popping up in his mind and he was unable to stop it from bursting forth. "So, Valena," he began, "I've heard a lot about the Herald of Andraste and now the Inquisitor, but I've never heard of her children or... her husband."

Valena winced when he said husband, and Gregory wished he could grab the words from the air and stuff them back down his throat, never to be uttered again. Her expression smoothed just as quickly as it had crumpled in pain, however, and she answered in an even tone, "My husband has passed into the beyond and I make certain that news of my children goes no where beyond these walls. I will not have them threatened or leveraged against me merely because of my position. Had you been anyone aside from Varric's closest, most trusted friend, you never would have known, either." A sharp cut of her eyes towards him let him know that she was completely serious now and he did not doubt her word

Not wanting to step on any further landmines, Gregory didn't press anymore about her deceased spouse, though his curiosity was running rampant. He pressed it back and nodded, deciding he'd done enough prying with his personal questions and that is was time to revisit his whole purpose here at Skyhold. "What do you want to know about Corypheus?" he inquired.

A little, appreciative hum escaped her. "Whatever you can tell me, Hawke."

Hawke told her everything he could think of. She settled on a tree stump adjacent a damaged bench that he rested on as he recounted his experience with Corypheus. They were both so engrossed, he in telling the tale and her in listening, that they barely noticed time passing and the sun beginning to set. Hawke had finished the bulk of his story and was answering Valena's questions when a little voice squealed, " _Mamae!_ " Both of them turned to see a tiny form sprinting towards them at full tilt. Valena only had a moment to react, opening her arms for the little girl in a green dress to vault into. The little girl landed smoothly, Valena giving a little 'oof' when they collided, and the little girl wrapped her arms around the redhead's neck.

"Hey, Miri," Valena greeted with a big smile, giving the little girl in her arms a quick squeeze. "Where'd you come from? You know you aren't supposed to wander the castle alone."

"Ah, that's my doing, M'lady," a masculine voice intoned, causing Valena to look over at the door where the Knight-Commander stood, Balor hoisted onto his hip, the toddler's head resting on Cullen's thick, fluffy pauldron like it was a pillow. "One of my guards reported hearing something amiss in your quarters so I went to check personally. Turns out, little miss Miriel had been looking for her story book and knocked down a shelf." Cullen shot a look of mock rebuke at the girl that wasn't even mildly convincing.

Valena wasn't upset, but she still made the effort to give her own disapproving look, twisting her mouth to one side and narrowing her eyes at her daughter. Miri at least had the decency to look abashed as she peaked up at her mother through her eyelashes. "Sorry, _mamae_ ," she apologized shyly, tugging at a lightly curling strand of her strawberry blonde hair. "I wanted to read to Balor," she explained, but because she was only four, her R's were a bit on the soft side and it sounded more like 'Balow.'

Valena's disapproval melted into a good-natured eye roll. That sounded just like her Miri. "Thank you, Cullen," she remarked, giving her daughter another squeeze.

"My pleasure, Lady Inquisitor," Cullen replied, formal as ever. He approached them and set Balor down on the ground next to his mother. Balor, seeing there was no room for him on his mom's lap, sat on the stump next to her and gently leaned his head on her side. Cullen fidgeted, scratching at the back of his neck "I was actually wondering if I could take them down to see the Mabari sometime? Miri keeps asking about the 'doggies.'"

"Of course, Cullen," Valena affirmed. "I'm surprised you even felt the need to ask."

"Thank you, my lady," Cullen replied, inclining his head respectfully. "I'll take my leave, then."

"Bye, Cully!" Miri called after the man, waving. He chuckled and returned her wave.

"Yeah," Valena agreed slyly, waving herself, "Bye Cully."

The Knight-Commander turned a deep shade of pink at the familiar nickname. "U-uh, oh. Er, m-m'lady," he stuttered, nearly tripping over himself to give her another respectful nod and then retreat as quickly as he could back into the hold

Valena rolled her eyes again as he retreated. No matter how she tried to put him at ease, Cullen still refused to be anything less than formal with her. Even when she flirted, he only seemed to get flustered. Oh, well. Eventually, he'd have to relax around her. Valena was lost in thought when a gentle tug on her sleeve brought her back to reality. "What is it, _Da'len_?" she asked her daughter.

Miri was looking at Hawke with apprehension and curiosity in equal parts. "Who's that?" Miri asked in a loud whisper that Hawke could clearly hear, but fought not acknowledge so Miri wouldn't think he was trying to eavesdrop.

Hawke had been silently watching the whole exchange between the Knight-Commander, the Inquisitor and her children and now waited to see what the Inquisitor would have to say about him.

Valena shifted Miriel around on her lap so that she was facing outward, towards Hawke. "I'm sorry, _Da'len_. This is my friend, Gregory Hawke. He's been trying to help me with ideas to defeat the bad man. Hawke, this is my daughter, Miriel Cathrie, and you've already met my son, Balor Cathrie." Hawke immediately picked up on the difference between her surname and that of her children, but decided to leave that for another time. Besides, that was the far less pressing question in his mind. The real mystery that was eating at his curiosity was how very different the two children looked. Miri was fair, like her mother, with reddish-blonde hair, freckles, rather round ears and her mother's big, green eyes. The eyes, in fact, were the only thing her brother shared. Otherwise, he looked nothing like either his mother or sister. His skin was several shades darker and he had raven hair with not a hint of red. Hawke supposed that he'd taken after his father, then. Weird that none of her father's coloring had shown up in Miri, though.

Hawke gently reached out and grabbed Miriel's hand, giving her plenty of time to pull it away if she was uncomfortable, and gently brought it to his mouth for a little kiss. "It's nice to meet you, Miri."

Miri giggled and swiped her hand back, rubbing the part he had kissed on her dress with a huge grin. "Your whiskers tickle!" she exclaimed.

Balor, already wanting to copy everything his sister did, stood up and held out his hand, and declared, "Me, me, me!" Not wanting to disappoint, Hawke gave a shrug and kissed the little boy's hand too. He promptly shrieked in delight and ran back to his mother's side. "Tickles!" he exclaimed, showing his mother the back of his hand.

Valena's smile was warmer than the sun. "Yep, tickles," she affirmed, planting a quick kiss on his forehead, making him shriek again. "So, are you two about ready to go to dinner? I heard Iron Bull saying something about piggy back rides for well behaved little elflings. Do you think you guys deserve piggy back rides?" she inquired, a mock skeptical look on her face, like she wasn't sure they _really_ deserved them.

"Yes!" both children replied zealously.

"Hmmm," she hummed, clearly only hamming up thinking it over for the amusement of her children. "Oh, all right," she relented. Both children exclaimed happily.

Hawke prepared to say his goodbyes for the evening when Valena turned to him with large, guileless eyes that twinkled with unconcealed mirth. If he had not seen it with his very own eyes, he would have never believed this was the same woman he'd met this afternoon. "Would you like to come? I'm sure you have some corrections to some of Varric's tales."

Hawke was caught off guard, but the idea was very appealing. He'd had a nice time talking to Valena, even if the subject matter wasn't particularly pleasant, and her children seemed very entertaining. It had also been a very long time - too long - since he'd sat down to dinner and drinks with friends and that was what he missed most of all about his days in Kirkwall. "Sure, I'd love to come to dinner. If you'll have me."

Valena's eyes twinkled when she replied, "Oh, I'll have you."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Distance Between; The Things that Bind

* * *

Valena stood in the main hall of Skyhold, amazed. She'd been gone for just over two months and in the time she'd been absent, the rebuilding had made leaps and bounds. There were still wooden platforms for builders and sections of the wall higher up were still missing, but there were no longer rebuilding supplies littering the floor, much of the glass in the window behind her "throne" - which she didn't care for, truth be told - had been replaced and there weren't any holes in the ceiling. It was starting to look respectable, like they were a real order and force to be reckoned with, now.

Balor tugged onto her hand with a whiny, " _Mamae_ , I want up."

Just the thought of picking up the toddler who was growing larger and larger every day made her weary body ache. It had taken near a week and a half to return from the Hinterlands, much of which she'd walked because she disliked the bumpy wagons and the Inquisition had yet to requisition a tamed Halla for her personal steed. It wasn't that she had anything against horses - she just hadn't grown up with them the way she had the Halla. Nevertheless, she could hardly refuse her son's request to be picked up. Valena lifted him, sure to grunt and act like he was such a burden and ignoring the very real twinging of her back, making the little boy giggle. "Ugh, you've gotten so big," she complained, making a show of struggling with his weight.

In reality, it hadn't been that long since she'd seen her son. As part of the deal for her becoming Inquisitor, she required an armed guard to escort her children to come see her, even when she was out on assignments for the Inquisition. Depending on how long she was away from the hold, generally, her children would follow a few days after she was settled and had made sure the area was safe and would leave a few days before they pulled up camp. She also made certain one of her inner circle always accompanied them. This last time, it had been Cassandra, whom Miri liked but Balor wasn't overly fond of. Valena thought it might be her usually austere expression.

"He has gotten big," another voice remarked, causing Valena to whirl, the hand not supporting her son reaching for her staff instinctively. Much as when they'd first met, Hawke was the one who'd snuck up on her and, just as before, he put his hands up in surrender. "As jumpy as ever, huh, Lady Inquisitor?" he teased with a crooked grin.

Unlike their first meeting, when Valena dropped her hand from her staff, she smiled back at him. "You're so quiet," she said, sounding almost accusing. "I should make you wear a bell."

Hawke shrugged, dropping his hands. "Anything my lady wants," he rejoined, coming over to join her where she stood. When he was close enough, he reached out a gloved hand, spiky gauntlets replaced by smooth, brown leather, and ran it through Balor's crop of midnight hair, ruffling it. "Hey, buddy. Looks like you need a haircut."

Balor beamed at the former Champion and held out his hands for Hawke to take him, much to Valena's surprise. "Uncle Hawke!" the child exclaimed exuberantly. Balor was already leaning forward, eager to exchange hands. Hawke chuckled but gladly held out his arms and accepted the now almost three year old. Valena's whole body wanted to sag, now free of the extra weight, but did her best not to show it. "Your whiskers are longer," the little boy noted, grabbing onto the ends of Hawke's beard. The man made an admirable effort not to wince when the child tugged a little too hard, but Valena still saw his eyes tighten and the corners of his mouth twitch downward.

"I'm growing 'em out," Hawke explained.

"You shouldn't," Valena joked, giving the Champion a cheeky grin. "You look better when your beard is neat."

Balor shot his mom a little frown. " _Mamae,_ I like his beard," the little boy complained.

"You'd be alone in that, _Da'len_."

Hawke slapped his free hand to his chest and stumbled back, acting like she'd struck him. "You wound me, my lady!" Hawke turned to Balor, and added, "Your mother is so mean to me."

Valena pursed her lips, but only to hide her smile. "Only when you deserve it."

Hawke pointed at her emphatically, declaring, "See?! Mean!" Balor giggled again, his shoulders jerking up and back down, seeming to say, "I don't know what to tell you, Uncle Hawke." Hawke narrowed his eyes and whispered, "If she's bribing you to agree with her, blink twice."

Valena rolled her eyes. "Alright, that's enough," she admonished, though still clearly in a good humor. "Balor, you need to go see Josie. She said she has a surprise for you." The little boy exclaimed happily and ran off, attempting to wiggle out of Hawke's grasp before the mage set him on the floor and then disappearing through one of the side halls a moment later. Val then turned to Gregory and crossed her arms. "Bribing him to agree with me?" she questioned. "I don't even know that Balor knows what bribing means."

Hawke shrugged. "If you keep sending him off with Varric, he will soon enough." That point was hard to argue with, so Valena just reached out and shoved him, making Hawke's grin grow. "You know you look weird with your travel cowl on, my lady," he remarked, fingering the fabric that surrounded her face before she smacked his hand away.

Valena frowned a little and pushed back the cowl on her head. It had been raining on the way to the hold and she'd entirely forgotten that she was wearing it, but that wasn't the rub. "Hawke, how many times must I ask that you call me Valena?" she asked.

The man in question's brow quirked and he smirked, replying, "Whenever you call me Grey or Gregory, _my lady_ ," with special emphasis on his preferred moniker for her.

Valena's frown didn't lessen at his reply and she was inwardly frustrated. It had been nearly eight months since she and Hawke had met on the battlements and in that time, they'd become fairly good friends. She'd even taken him out on some shorter ventures with her. He was great with her children and a great verbal sparring partner. On all accounts, they got along famously. Even so, it felt as if a wall remained between them. She did not address him by anything other than Hawke, or, if wishing to rile him, Champion and he addressed her in kind, though using 'my lady,' rather than her surname. It was difficult to pinpoint just why she didn't feel comfortable using his first name. She did not call Josie 'Ambassador Montilyet,' nor Cullen 'Knight-Commander Rutherford.' Valena didn't even call Vivienne by anything other than her name and the two were not close by any means. So why couldn't she call him by his name?

Hawke, entirely oblivious to her internal turmoil, lost his joking smile and his face sobered. "So... I heard back from my the warden I am acquainted with, Stroud. He wants us to meet him in Crestwood."

Valena wanted to cry. Not like, sobbing broken tears kind of crying, but a few frustrated tears threatened, stinging at the edges of her eyes. If she didn't know it would instantly give her away, she probably would have rubbed at her eyes to clear them, but Hawke would know she was tearing if she did. Couldn't she go just a few months without being called away from the hold all the time? Miri was five and Josie insisted this was the age where most children were taught to read and write and Josie had found a good tutor to teach the little girl mandolin when she'd grown a liking for Maryden's stringed instrument. Dragging her children everywhere with her would disrupt their lives too much but not seeing them for weeks and sometimes months at a time was completely out of the question.

Despite her efforts to keep from showing her frustration, Hawke must have picked up on it anyway, the intuitive bastard. His gaze was intent and scanned her expression, the lines at the corner of his mouth deepening as he did so and she knew she was caught. "If you want, I can just go meet him, Inquisitor," he offered in a rare moment of complete seriousness. She thought she saw his hand reach out for her, but he paused, faltered and let the hand fall back to his side. "I will go as your emissary, an official messenger of the Inquisition."

"You're here as a favor to Varric," she argued, crossing her arms and giving him a look that was half hard and half questioning. "You aren't an official anything."

Hawke didn't answer for a moment, but his blue gaze met hers, unwavering. A muscle ticked in his cheek, his jaw tight. "I could be."

Silence stretched between them. Hawke waited for her reply and Valena waited for him to rescind the offer. He'd made it very clear that he didn't want to get too involved. He'd also never officially joined the Inquisition and he left the hold when it suited him. If she agreed and made him an agent, he'd do his part, but she felt in her heart that he'd regret it. After a long pause, neither party bending in their position, Valena heaved a sigh. "It doesn't matter anyway. Stroud is too important of an asset to send a representative. I am duty bound to go meet him in person. Even if I did make you an agent, the best that would do is have you accompany me to meet him, which you were already set on doing anyway."

Hawke fought to keep his face a mask but he couldn't help the ripple of hurt that passed over his expression. Luckily, it didn't seem Valena noticed it, since she'd averted her eyes after he pronouncement, finally breaking their intense staring contest. Eight months ago, he wouldn't have joined the Inquisition if anyone had asked. It was only because Varric was so insistent that he came to Skyhold personally at all, but only promising to share his information and intending to take off soon afterwards. Now, she didn't even have to ask - Hawke had _offered_ himself and his services... and she'd refused. Valena didn't believe that he wanted to be here. And that hurt the former Champion more than he cared to admit.

Hawke was careful to keep his tone very even and neutral when he said, "Alright. When do you want to leave for Crestwood?"

The Inquisitor frowned, her deep red brows furrowing together. "Give me a few days to recoup. You and I, plus a few party members, will leave on horseback and make a quick trip. No wagons and only short stops for rest. I want to be back in no more than a fortnight." Two weeks. If she could make it there and back in two weeks, then she wouldn't need to tear her children away from the only home they had just yet. Cullen, Josie, Blackwall, Varric, the Iron Bull and even surprisingly, Sera, were all great with her children - they would have no shortage of caretakers while she was gone. She'd bring Cassandra and Cole along, possibly Solas as well. Cole, being half spirit, wouldn't require as much rest and Cassandra and Solas were both used to long journeys with less than optimal conditions.

Hawke inclined his head. "As you wish, my lady," he agreed, but there was a coldness in his eyes that hadn't been there before when he met her gaze again. Without another word, Hawke turned and headed towards the doorway he'd come through, heading up the stairs to his quarters without a backwards glance.

Valena was left alone in the hall and his silence rang in her ears as she swiped away the tears that began to prick at the corner of her eyes.

* * *

Staring down the edge of a blade hadn't been in Valena's plans today, but here she was, in a dark, creepy tunnel, staring down the length of a sword that was level with her nose. A dark haired man with a thick mustache held her at the point of the sword, looking at her with intensity. The fact that he'd managed to get behind her without so much of a clank of his armor told Valena much of what she needed to know about the man - not only was he armed but he was skilled and the look in his eye said he was willing to use those skills if she didn't provide a very good reason for invading his space.

Good thing she had one, seeing as the griffin sigil glittering on his breast plate announced him as the Warden they had come to meet. However, right that second, Hawke reappeared from where he'd fallen behind in the dark tunnel, eyes widening at the sight of the sword being brandished at the Inquisitor, who began to raise her hands in surrender. "Whoa!" he exclaimed as he dashed into the room, edging in front of Valena as he did so. "It's just us. I brought the Inquisitor."

The Warden looked at Hawke, then back at the redheaded elf, considering, before re-sheathing his blade and introducing himself; "My name is Stroud and I am at your service, Inquisitor."

Valena sort of wanted to make a crack about whether his services included beheading her or not but thought better of it. Taking the more diplomatic approach she said, "I'll take all the help I can get. I know the wardens have troubles of their own." She paused and then tacked on, "I wonder, though, might those troubles have anything to do with Corypheus?"

Stroud sighed, "I fear it is so. When my friend, Hawke, slew Corypheus, Weisshaupt was happy to put the matter to rest. But an archdemon can survive wounds that seem fatal, and I feared Corypheus might possess the same power." As he spoke, Stroud turned and headed towards a table which was laden with papers and had one very large pillar candle. It had obviously been lit for quite some time, if the wax build up towards the base of the candle was anything to go on. Valena wondered if Stroud had been here beyond the week and a half he'd been waiting for them. Stroud's voice held frustration when he continued, "My investigation uncovered clues but no proof. Then, not long after, every warden in Orlais began to hear the calling."

Hawke's eyes widened in shock. "Maker!" he exclaimed, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Stroud looked a little sad when he replied, "It was a Grey Warden matter. I was bound by an oath of secrecy."

Valena put a hand on Hawke's shoulder in a comforting gesture, not needing to look at his face to know that it would be crumpled in pain. Valena knew that Hawke had a brother, Carver, who was in the Wardens, and that learning every Warden in Orlais was hearing what basically amounted to a death song would be devastating for him. She also half expected him to shrug her off - he'd been distant since that day in Skyhold - but he grabbed her hand where it lay on his shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. "I know the calling means that the end is near, but... what is it, exactly?" Valena asked, giving Hawke's hand a quick squeeze in return as she did. This was important information, even if it would be painful for the male mage to hear.

"The calling tells a warden that the blight will soon claim him," Stroud explained. "Starts with dreams. Then come whispers in his head. The warden says his farewells and goes to the Deep Roads to meet his death in combat." Hawke tensed under Valena's touch and she ran her thumb over the back of his hand, soothing.

Hawke licked his lips, a nervous tick of his, and asked, "And every Grey Warden in Orlais is hearing that right now? They think they're dying?" Valena tried not to notice the way his voice shook, but couldn't help feeling sorry for her friend.

"Yes," Stroud answered, succinct and without sugarcoating. "Likely because of Corypheus. If the wardens fall, who will stand against the next blight? It is our greatest fear."

Hawke was white as a sheet when Valena looked up at him for his response. "So..." the older man hedged, "Corypheus isn't controlling the Wardens. He's bluffing them with the calling and they're falling for it."

Stroud sighed. "The Wardens think they are coming to their end and they will act accordingly."

"Then we must stop it," Valena asserted. Hawke looked over to his friend whose grip was still tight on his hand. Her face was resolute, set in hard lines that he'd become familiar with in their time together. "Stop the Calling, stop Corypheus, stop all of it." Her tone left no room for argument. Hawke felt a surge of gratitude for the elf and her unwavering, utter confidence.

"Warden-Commander Clarel spoke of a blood magic ritual to prevent future blights before we all perished. When I protested the plan as madness, my own comrades turned on me."

A fresh slice of pain went through Hawke, the mention of Stroud's comrades betrayal bringing the poignant sting of not only Isabela's betrayal but Anders' as well to the surface of his psyche. He knew how that felt, to have people who you thought were you kin, whose loyalty you'd never questioned before, betray your trust. Hawke wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. Between the renewed pain of those old wounds and the fear he had for his brother's fate as a Warden nearly brought him to his knees. The only reason he remained on his feet was the strength that radiated through Valena's hand into his. She was true. She was certain. She was there.

Stroud continued, unaware of Hawke's immense pain, gesturing to the maps on the table and saying, "Grey Wardens are gathering here, in the Western Approach." He turned away from the table and met both of their gazes. "It is an ancient Tevinter ritual tower. Meet me there, and we will find answers." As Stroud spoke, he turned and made his way towards the exit of the cave, leaving the Inquisitor and the former Champion alone.

Before Hawke could say anything, _feel_ anything, in the absence of Stroud, Valena grabbed him in an impressive show of strength and wrapped him in a tight hug. Both of her slim arms constricted around his neck as she stood on tip toe and one hand snaked up the nape of his neck, forcefully burying his face in the crook of her neck. "It will be alright," she assured, punching every word with confidence. "I will _not_ let anything happen to your brother. I will _not_ let anything happen to the Wardens. I _promise_."

Hawke was glad they'd left the rest of their party members at the mouth of the cave. Hawke was unbelievably grateful that Valena was the only one there to witness the moment he broke down, crying where she'd buried his face into her throat, and returning her hug, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding onto her like a lifeline. She soothed him, whispering softly into his hear as horrible sobs wracked the larger man's frame. Eventually, his knees gave and he slid down to the floor, but still, he held onto the elfin woman with all of his might, and she sank to the floor with him. She toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as he'd seen her do to Balor a hundred times before and when he finally pulled back enough to look her in the eye, her face was full of compassion and sympathy as she wiped the tear tracks from his face with the tips of her thumbs. And a knowing he might have expected from Varric but never from another. She knew. Somehow, Valena knew that he could not bear to lose his brother, too.

Valena stayed there with him until he'd regained control of himself and his face became less mottled. She smoothed his beard down where their embrace had ruffled it, giving him a gentle smile. "We should probably get back to the others," she said, pulling her hand back and turning towards the entrance, no doubt intending to retrace their steps and join the others at the mouth of the cave.

Before she could take more than a single step, though, Gregory grabbed her hand with a grip like an iron shackle. When she turned back to look at him, her expression was a gentle question. Hawke took a deep breath to steady himself. "My lady," he began, but then quickly rethought how he should address her for this pronouncement and corrected with, "Valena Lavellan. I swear myself and my services to you and your order, the Inquisition."

"Hawke," she began gently, clearly about to argue, but he cut her off.

"No, I'm doing this," he refuted, fiercely. "I have never believed in a cause as much as I believe in this one, nor have I ever believed in a leader as much as I believe in you, so..." Hawke paused and lowered himself again, kneeling before her with his head bowed in the utmost respect and clapping a fist over his heart. "Inquisitor Valena Lavellan, I am your man, your agent, through and through. If you'll have me."

A short silence stretched in the cavern as he waited for her reply. Hawke struggled with the urge to peak up at her and read her expression, but managed to keep his head bowed until the gentle touch of her fingertips under his chin encouraged him to lift his head and look at her. "Gregory Hawke," she began when his eyes met hers, green orbs twinkling, as for the second time since he'd known her, she replied, "I'll have you."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Revelations

* * *

Hakwe stood at the edge of their campsite in the Hinterlands, leaning against a tree and watching Valena with her children. The past couple months had been hard. The Inquisitor hadn't dared to bring her children to the Western Approach, which Hawke could understand. It was hardly a suitable environment for people at all - add in the Venatori and possessed Wardens and leaving them behind made total sense. It hurt her to do it, though, and seeing what was happening to the Warden mages had affected Valena. She'd been sullen and kept to herself, watching the mages being forced into a ritual that stripped them of both humanity and freewill disturbing her greatly. Hawke managed a few tired smiles as they'd returned to the hold, but it was like only a piece of her was present.

Matters had only worsened when they went back to Skyhold to find Miriel angry and defiant. Valena had never been gone so long before and the girl had taken it badly, despite constant reassurance that her mother would be back and she'd left her behind for her own good. Balor had been plenty happy to see his _Mamae_ , but was clearly stressed out by Miri's anger and distance and cried more and demanded more attention from his mother as a result, wearing Valena's already fragile nerves further.

Hawke still remembered a particularly bad argument between mother and daughter.

Valena had gone to brush her fingers through Miri's strawberry blonde locks, as was her way, but when Miri had realized who was touching her, she'd become furious and slapped Valena's hand away with a hateful look. "Don't touch me!" the little girl had snarled. "I hate you!"

The red-haired elf flinched so violently, an onlooker might have thought that some invisible force had struck her across the face. Valena let her hand drop. "Miri," she entreated gently, "I know you're angry with me but I'm still your _Mamae_ and you need to show me respect-"

"YOU ARE NOT MY _MAMAE_!" the little girl had screamed, eyes closing with the effort it took to raise her voice to such a volume, her tiny fists clenching at her sides. Her face had gone beat red. When she opened her green eyes, an exact mirror of her mother's they were filled with tears. "My _mamae_ wouldn't have left me for so long," she'd finished, anger fading into devastation and sadness. Her fists unclenched and she'd buried her face in her hands and ran off sobbing, slamming the door to Josie's office behind her.

Valena helplessly reached for her daughter, but was rooted to the spot, unable to follow. The others who'd been present carefully avoided eye contact. Hawke had been the one to lead her from the main hall, away from the others who'd witnessed her daughter's tantrum. Miri's feelings were understandable, but seeing Valena this way - pale, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, features so blank she seemed a mere shell of herself - made Hawke feel worse for her mother.

Valena had silently held his hand as he talked to her for hours. Occasionally, a tear would silently fall from her eye and slide down her cheek. The first time, Hawke had reached out and tried to brush away her tears with the pads of his thumb like she'd done for him back at the cave, but she'd shied from any touch that wasn't his hand on hers, so he gave up and let the tear drops stain her tunic. Eventually, someone had come by with news of Balor asking for her, wanting a bed time story and to be tucked in, and that seemed to bring her back to herself - for the most part. The elf had shot Hawke a sad smile before she left and uttered a soft, "Thank you," and then disappeared up into her quarters for the evening.

Thankfully, Miri came around and forgave her mother. It had taken almost a week and a few outbursts, but, eventually, the girl realized she was more happy to have her _mamae_ home than she was angry with her for leaving and the two had reconciled. Thereafter, Valena had become much more like herself again

Now she sat in a bright little patch of grass with Balor in her lap and Miri sitting beside her. Balor was leaning back against his mother contentedly with his eyes closed against the sun. His mother and sister were busy weaving flower crowns. Miri already wore a pink and white crown on her head and she kept attempting to fashion one for Valena, only for it to fall apart before she could present it to her _mamae_. Hawke couldn't hear from this distance, but it looked like Valena was gently directing the increasingly frustrated five-year old as she weaved a crown with dark red flowers. The dark red crown, Hawke had overhead Miri say when they were picking the flowers, was for Cassandra, who was busy sparring with the Bull at the other end of the camp. Hawke was sure that the warrior would be delighted when the little elf girl presented her with the gift.

Finally, Miri exclaimed in triumph as she finished the crown, interspersed with blue flowers and white roses. Valena smiled, accepting the crown from her daughter and proudly positioning it on her own head. It wasn't as neat looking as the one Valena had placed on Miri's head, nor the one Valena was working on for Cassandra, but it still suited the elfin woman well. The white roses brought out the white of her _vallaslin_ beautifully.

Hawke was entirely mesmerized as she giggled at something her daughter said, her whole face radiant with joy.

Gregory was so mesmerized, in fact, that he didn't hear it when the dwarf sidled up next to him. "So," the story-teller hedged, making Hawke jump at the sudden intrusion and whirl to look down at him, "you're sweet on the Inquisitor, are you?" Varric wore his usual cocky grin, an eyebrow raised knowingly at his best and oldest friend.

The human man's eyes bugged and heat rose to his cheeks. "N-no!" he stuttered, practically tripping over himself to deny the accusation. "I-I just think she's admirable- A great leader!"

Varric rolled his eyes, looking like he'd never heard a bigger pile of horseshit in his entire life. "Yeah, sure," the dwarf replied dryly, "and I'm the Black Divine."

Hawke did not like how this conversation was turning out. His blush and his stutter were entirely betraying him. What happened to the practiced liar that traipsed through Kirkwall on the daily, a wanted apostate but nigh untouchable, even before he'd earned his champion status? Hawke used to bluff Templars, smugglers and other low lives without breaking a sweat. One accusation from his best friend about having feelings for the Inquisitor and he fell to pieces. The mage hated that, so so much. What was even worse, Varric would have known he was lying, even if he wasn't stuttering and blushing because he couldn't ever lie to his best buddy. Gregory sighed deeply, rubbing at his face. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm sweet on her, exactly," the taller man hemmed.

Varric's lips twitched a fraction upwards. "Oh, yeah? Then what would you call staring at her like that?" he inquired, almost blase.

"Like what?" Hawke shot back.

Varric chuckled. "Like she's the most magical woman you've ever laid eyes on."

"Well, to be fair, she is," Hawke joked with a little noncommittal shrug. Not only was the elvhen woman a mage but she also possessed the anchor, arguably making her the most magical person in all of Thedas.

The dwarf narrowed his eyes at his best friend. "You know what I mean."

Hawke did know what he meant, unfortunately. He'd very recently come to the same conclusion and hadn't been ready to admit it out loud just yet. But of course, Varric knew. Varric knew him better than his own brother did. Varric had also been there last time he'd been smitten... and seen it go horribly south. "It's complicated," Hawke finally admitted.

"Only if you make it complicated," Varric argued. He paused and sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck before continuing in a more subdued tone, "Me and Bianca, we're complicated. Valena's a widow and, to my knowledge, you haven't been involved with anyone since... since Rivaini took off." A wry smile crossed Varric's face. "Not to mention, her family doesn't send assassins every time you so much as visit her. So if it's complicated, it's only because you're making it complicated."

Hawke frowned at Varric, thinking that was a gross oversimplification, but inwardly, he was pleased that the memory of Isabela leaving didn't rip a fresh hole in his heart and the old wound only gave a little throb. Still, though, Varric was wrong. The issue of his feelings for Valena _was_ complicated. He was about to bring up the elephant in the room, and that was the fact that she had children that she'd always put first, but he stopped himself, realizing that he actually didn't mind that. Hawke really liked being around her kids. They were intelligent, funny and sweet little kids and Hawke was a grown man - he didn't need his partner's world to revolve around him. Valena putting her children first was appealing, even. So instead, he said, "I don't think she feels the same."

That actually seemed to give the dwarf pause, which was rare. Still, Varric recovered after only a moment and gave his best friend a shove. "Well, sitting around guessing at the answers was never your forte. Time to get off your ass, Champion of Kirkwall, and find out for yourself."

Varric had a point, Hawke had to concede. Still, he wasn't about to go confessing to her until he was more certain of his own feelings and until he was more certain of hers. "I think I will," Hawke replied.

Varric left Hawke alone not long after to go talk to Scout Harding. Hawke filed that info away in the back of his head to possibly tease his buddy over later. After all, turn about's fair play and all that. Still, though, the conversation with Varric had left Hawke a lot to think about as he turned back around to observe Valena and her children. The flower crown with the dark red flowers had been set aside and Miri was twisting little tiny white flowers into her mom's hair on one side and Balor had joined in, trying to do the same on the other side, though Hawke noticed that most of the flowers fluttered right back out of her deep red tresses. Valena's face glowed with happiness, tilting her head this way and that to give her children equal access to her hair.

Eventually, Balor got up and ran over to Iron Bull, wanting to ride on his shoulders and Valena must have decided there were enough of the little blossoms in her hair since she handed the flower crown that had been set to the side to Miri and pointed in Cassandra's general direction.

Miri grinned broadly and took off, little feet pounding against the ground and kicking up the hem of her dress as Valena slowly picked herself up off the ground, stretching languidly. Hawke backed away, pretending to examine the requisitions table so as not to be caught staring. He heard, rather than saw Valena approach, only looking up when she gently laid a hand on his forearm. He looked up, surprised, and his breath was taken away. With the little white buds twisted in her fiery red hair around her face and the flowers adorning her like an ethereal queen of the forest, she was more beautiful than he'd ever seen.

"You've been studying the requisitions hard," she noted lightly, a relaxed smile stretching her lips. "Have we collected anything worth being sent back yet?"

"Wha?" Hawke breathed, still dazed by her beauty for a second before he shook himself and exclaimed, "Oh." The mage hurriedly scanned the table, looking for answers. "Er, yes. We've collected a good amount of elfroot which is good for potions."

She didn't reply, her green eyes roving over him slowly. Hawke panicked, fearing she may have noticed that he'd been staring at her all this time, but then she just ran her fingers along his forearm in a soothing caress. "You've been going over this for a while now. Be sure to take a break. You wouldn't want to become overtired."

Before Hawke could do more than breathe a mental sigh of relief, a startled voice rang out, catching both mages attention. Cassandra had clapped a hand to her mouth, eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Oh, Miri!" she exclaimed in her heavy Nevarran accent. "I love it!" The woman gratefully accepted the flower crown and immediately placed it on her head. It looked a little odd on the normally austere, brass tacks woman, but it also accented the glow of her beaming face. Hawke had never seen the woman quite so happy as she scooped the little girl up for a hug. Miri giggled gaily where she was pressed against Cassandra's chest, wrapping her arms as far around the woman as her 5 year old arms could manage.

Hawke leaned in towards Valena, softly murmuring, "You've got a good kid."

"I do, don't I?"

Hawke jerked his head over at Balor, who was sitting on Bull's shoulders and gripping onto his horns as the Qunari bucked around, pretending he was trying to throw the little boy. "Two, even."

Her smile grew a touch sad. "Yeah," she breathed, "guess I do."

Hawke wanted to ask the question that had been on the tip of his tongue for months now. It burned in his throat, begging to jump out and sate his curiosity. Why did Miri look like a blonde clone of her where Balor barely resembled her at all? Was it merely that Balor took after her late husband and that was why she sometimes grew a trifle sad when she looked at the little boy? Or was there another explanation? Another thing that nagged at him was Miri's lack of elven ears. He knew this wasn't the time, though. He threw an arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick, one armed squeeze. It was only meant to be a comforting gesture on his part, but he couldn't help briefly burying his nose in her hair and breathing in. Her hair still carried a hint of the scented soap she had at the hold but the heady scent of the earth clung to her, too, with just a touch of sweat. His chest filled with warmth and he was sad when he had to let her go, wanting to linger there longer.

Valena smiled up at him gratefully before walking away to go pluck Balor off of the Bull's back and declare that it was time for supper. The two kids whined, disappointed that their fun had been interrupted, but scampered off towards where the soldier was making stew out of a ram they'd poached earlier, some found herbs - Valena was an absolute expert in discerning herbs and knew which ones went best with what dishes - and some vegetables they'd bought off some nearby farmers.

Gregory joined them but couldn't seem to help the way his eyes skittered towards the Inquisitor for the rest of the evening. In all the time he'd known her, he didn't think he'd ever seen her so carefree or happy. He also couldn't help the blush that crept up his neck when Varric caught him and threw him suggestive looks.

Damn that dwarf. This was going to go in one of his books one day, Hawke could feel it in his bones.

Hawke could only hope it would end up as an epic or a love story and not as a tragedy.

* * *

Sweat ran down Valena's neck as she fired spell after spell, feeling her energy draining an increment each time she did so. She was already bone tired and would have fallen to the floor if not for the mana potions she kept downing like they were the elixir of life. She was spattered with blood, but none of it was her's, thankfully. She'd blasted a group of hurlock at close range and the result had been a rain of ichor. It smelled foul, as one might expect, but she ignored it.

A few feet away from her, Varric was firing Bianca as fast as he could manage, springing away when one of the enemies got too close. Valena let a fire spell loose on the dwarf's attacker, burning the darkspawn alive. It gave a horrible, inhuman scream before it fell to the floor of the cave they were in, smoldering. Valena attempted a rejuvenation spell on Varric, who was beginning to look a little worse for wear himself, but felt her magic stutter and falter, her reserves being too low to finish the spell. Breathing heavily, she popped another blue flask from her belt and downed it, smashing it when she was through.

She noticed Bull fall a way off, his Reaver specialization a blessing and a curse, unfortunately. The liquid in the flask worked quickly, filling her with energy and she began to cast a revival on the large warrior, simultaneously sending out barriers to the rest of her companions. Healing and defensive magic had always been her specialties, after all.

The Inquisitor was relieved to see Bull picking himself up off the floor a moment later and even managing to catch sight of one of his larger wounds healing before her eyes, the power of her spell knitting the skin back together in a neat line. He resumed his place in the fray, beheading three genlock in a single sweep.

A quick glance over in Blackwall's direction said he was still doing alright. He'd sustained a cut on his cheek that was weeping dark blood, but seemed otherwise in good shape. Valena was looking for the former Champion when Gregory shouted, "Valena, to your left!"

Without thinking, the mage struck out blindly to the left with her staff and sent an electric bolt through it, seeking whatever Hawke was trying to warn her about. The darkspawn had been closer than she anticipated, she found, when her staff was unable to even finish its arc and the crystal at the top embedded in the putrid creatures throat, effectively shredding its neck and frying it on the inside as the bolt took its course, moving from the crystal into the creature's body. The smell of burnt, rotten meat filled the air and with a disgusted grimace, the mage managed to dislodge her staff from the dead creature. It fell to the ground, still sizzling and twitching but definitely dead.

The brush with mortality spurred her on. The darkspawn had been right up on her. If Hawke hadn't shouted that warning when he did, she surely would have died. Valena dropped her ichor coated staff for a moment and centered herself on the ground in a wide stance, gathering all of her energy. "Everybody MOVE!" she screamed as a pillar of flame shot up from the ground like a beacon.

"Now that's what I'm talking about, Boss!" Iron Bull exclaimed exuberantly, falling back as he did.

When both of the warriors were out of range, however, the darkspawn tried to follow. "Oh no you don't!" Valena snarled, whipping both hands outward and causing the pillar to spread with the gesture. It became more than just a wall of fire, spreading in every direction. Distorted screams rose from the blaze as darkspawn were burned alive. When the fire died, only a few darkspawn had managed to escape the inferno where they had been overrun before. The two warriors and Varric chased after what little remained to dispatch them quickly.

Valena sagged then, her knees giving out. It felt like all the breath had gone out of her lungs and all her muscles had atrophied with the great effort it had taken her to cast such an incredible fire spell. Hawke fell to his knees beside her, managing to grab her before she slumped all the way into the dirt and brought her down gently to lay her head in his lap. Her eyes drooped as she looked up at him, beyond exhausted. "Heeeey, Hawke," she greeted, her voice coming out light and airy and she didn't seem fully present. "Awesome fire spell, huh?"

Gregory smiled down at the Inquisitor, brushing her sweaty and blood soaked hair away from her face. "Would have been better if it didn't render you useless afterward," he teased.

Valena whined, attempting to smack at his hand, but unable to with the paralyzing effect of depleting all of her mana. "I'd like to see you do better," she challenged, though it lacked any real vigor, adjusting her head in his lap. Her green eyes, already hooded from exhaustion, drooped further until they were almost closed. "Grey," she said, sleep heavy in her voice, "can you be in charge while I take a..." she paused and yawned, "... nap?"

A little thrill went through him at the use of his nickname but he squashed it, taking care of her being of far more importance. He slowly pulled two little flasks from his belt. "Yeah, I can do that.. after you take a little sip of both of these." He used his teeth to remove the corks and spat them out off to the side.

Valena groaned, obviously already on her way to a comatose state, but complied. Gregory supported her head, tipping first the mana potion to her lips followed by the healing. He didn't make her drink the entirety of either potion, knowing that if she took too much of the mana potion, she might not be able to sleep and she really didn't need the healing potion except for to reverse some of the fatigue depleting that much of her mana would cause. He finished off both of the flasks himself. She was out before the bottles hit the cave floor.

Hawke was adjusting the elvhen woman in his arms to carry her back to camp when the two warriors returned, Varric a few paces behind. Iron Bull spoke first, holding out his burly arms, "I can carry her back."

The male mage tightened his grip around Valena unconsciously, bringing her a fraction closer to his chest. "No," Hawke replied, trying his best to seem nonchalant. "I got her."

Gregory didn't even have to look at Varric to know that the dwarf would be all kinds of smug and cocky over this development. Bull just raised an eyebrow but shrugged and let it go. Blackwall looked confused but didn't press on the matter. Hawke chanced a glance at Varric and found his friend silently snickering at him, his shoulders shaking and hiding his mouth with a hand clapped over it. Hawke narrowed his eyes at the dwarf and promised himself that he'd punch Varric later.

They exited the cave they'd been eliminating darkspawn in. They'd accomplished their mission and would be returning to the hold, shortly. Valena would be relieved to be reunited with her littles once more, Hawke thought.

The walk back to camp was a long one and by the time they caught sight of the tents, Gregory's arms ached with the effort of carrying the Inquisitor. Still, he couldn't bring himself to let Blackwall or Bull carry her back the rest of the way. He liked how her head rested against his chest and the tiny little snores that escaped her every now and then. Gregory could admit to himself that he was completely smitten with Valena - he just couldn't admit it to anyone else yet.

Gregory almost dropped her when he stooped to enter her tent to deposit her inside. The jostling roused her and she blinked sleepily at him, seeming to be only half awake. "Grey?" she asked, grogginess and confusion clear in her voice. "What're ya doing in my tent?"

"I- er, well," he stuttered, feeling a little guilty even though he hadn't done anything wrong, "I carried you back to camp and was just putting you down."

Another slow, lethargic blink followed his statement. "Ah, I see," she replied understandingly, nodding to herself. After a long moment, her eyes began to droop again. Grey thought she was falling back asleep so he slowly started backing out of the tent, but she murmured something that stopped him in his tracks; "You know, sometimes... you look like... my... husband."

Gregory froze. "What?" he breathed, incredulous.

Valena shifted on her mat so that she was laying on her side, bunching up her pillow as much as she could. "He had lighter hair, but your eyes... remind me of... his."

Gregory's eyes could have popped out of his skull at this revelation. Valena had never really spoken about her husband before, only mentioning that he'd passed on before she'd turned up at the conclave with the crazy green magic anchor in her hand. Still, he wanted to use this opportunity to find out a little more about her past. "What was your husband's name?"

A small, sad smile crossed her face. "Aurelis. Aurelis Cathrie."

Hawke took a deep breath to steady himself. "What happened to Aurelis, Valena?"

The young woman did not reply and her silence made Gregory worry that his question had upset her. When he looked at her face, ready to blurt out every apology he could think of, though, he found her face smooth and impassive as she'd crossed into unconsciousness once more. Hawke sighed and slowly exited the tent. It was going to be a long night for the mage.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When I Hold You

* * *

"You know what I hate?" Valena asked lowly so that only the man directly at her side could hear.

Hawke's lips quirked, replying in the same low tone; "What do you hate?"

"This outfit, this ball and this whole damn charade." The mage woman crossed her arms and frowned, clearly put out by this whole evening.

Gregory bit back the chuckle that threatened. Valena had a point. Their outfits, while not as bad as what some of the Orlesian nobility wore, were stiff and formal, the ball seemed an odd route to go for peace talks, since a mask was the easiest way for an assassin to infiltrate and the charade, or The Game, as the Orlesians liked to refer to it as was tiresome. Valena, for the most part, was a pretty straight forward woman and had a low tolerance level for bullshit like this. Hawke was used to the dance that accompanied high stake politicking, having only very narrowly escaped being thrown in the circle on multiple occasions, simply because he was Kirkwall's champion. "Well, you know, my lady, Josephine wanted you in a gown. Perhaps that would have been more to your liking," Gregory teased.

The scowl she shot him was icy. "Don't even joke about that."

It wasn't that Valena was especially opposed to wearing dresses - indeed, she even wore some more casual dresses around the hold - but when Josie had presented Valena with a corseted, cage-skirted monstrosity of a gown in gold, no less, Valena had promptly shut that fancy down and had decided to wear what everyone else was wearing. Tugging at the collar that was too snug around her throat was infinitely preferable to that blasted gown.

The two moved around the floor together, surreptitiously listening in on any conversation that they could manage. So far, they'd found out about a couple affairs and at least one planned assassination, aside from the one on Celene, that Valena would be sure to report to Leliana. The spymaster could decide whether or not the assassination was in their best interest to stop or not. Valena liked to stay as true to her morals as was feasible but she knew that the Inquisition, if it were to be an effective tool, couldn't always operate according to what best suited her conscience. There had been and would be tough decisions and Valena had accepted that it would fall on her shoulders to make those decisions.

Hawke wanted to ask her to dance. Even though Josie had been unable to coax her into the gown for this event, the ambassador did manage to convince her to wear her hair in a "more fashionable" style and had even convinced the elf to let her dab just a little bit of makeup on her. Valena was always beautiful, of course, but the lining around her eyes made them appear twice as large, her face was framed by pretty red tendrils and the red lacquer spread across her lips made them so inviting...

Valena hummed along softly to the music, slightly out of time. "Perhaps we should go see how Dorian is doing," Valena suggested offhandedly, making her way around another ginormous skirt.

Hawke did most certainly not want to see how Dorian was doing, but he nodded, unable to think of a good reason that wouldn't invite too many questions from his companion. Instead, he grabbed a wine glass off of a nearby servant, making sure to thank the elf as he did so and slip her a gold piece as thanks, and followed after the lovely Inquisitor.

Dorian was out in the garden, holding onto a goblet of wine - probably not his first, Hawke thought. Dorian, as always, looked like a statue that had been carved with great care. His hair was neatly coiffed, his mustache curled impeccably above his full lips, his eyes sharp and intelligent and that wasn't even mentioning the beauty of his body. He had no right, in Hawke's opinion, to be that deliciously muscular while also having grown up with such privilege and talent. Tonight, though, he looked like a very annoyed statue. When he spotted them, a little relief washed over the Tevinter man's face, quickly hidden behind an arrogant mask. "Ah, thought you two had left me to the wolves," he remarked dryly, raising a goblet to them in greeting.

Valena turned large, guileless eyes on the man, the very picture of innocence. "Now don't tell me you aren't having fun, Dorian."

The Altus rolled his eyes, his lip raising in scorn. "It's all very familiar," he replied, "I half expect my mother to materialize from the crowd and criticize my manners."

"What if your mother were actually here? Where would we be then?" Valena asked curiously.

Dorian scoffed. "Short one mage, after he's dragged out by his earlobe."

Hawke snorted, ignoring the disgusted side-eye that garnered from a nearby gaggle of Orlesians. "Sounds like my mother, Maker rest her spirit."

Valena lightly elbowed Hawke, casually asserting, "And you'd deserve it. Your manners _do_ need work, Gregory."

"Says the woman who grew up in a forest," he shot back teasingly.

Valena rolled her eyes. "Yes, and now I deal with humans, noble and otherwise, on a daily basis - hourly, even," she replied coolly. Hawke had to conceded that she had him there. Even though he'd also frequently rubbed elbows with the higher ups in Kirkwall, he couldn't say he'd been even half as diplomatic as she managed, even with her Dalish upbringing arguably putting her at a disadvantage when it came to human social customs. Sensing her victory, Valena beamed triumphantly at her companion before turning back to Dorian, who had been glancing between the two with interest as they bantered. "Don't wear yourself out mingling. I expect a dance before this is over," she declared.

"Dancing with the evil Magister, in full view of every noble in Orlais? How shocking," Dorian replied in a mock scandalized voice.

"They'll live," Valena shrugged, unconcerned. She'd already offended the nobles by being an elf. Dancing with Dorian, even if he was considered "evil" by some of the other attendees, couldn't do too much more damage.

"You say that now," Dorian said. "If you can find me ten silk scarves, I've got a dance that will _really_ shock them."

Valena rolled her eyes yet again, gently touching the other mage on his arm as she passed by. "See you later, Dorian," she said in farewell, half amused and half exasperated.

As Grey followed after the redhead, a little pang of envy went through him. He wasn't jealous of Dorian - he knew Valena and he were just good friends, an idea which was reinforced by Dorian making his interest in the former Champion pretty well known throughout the first few months Grey had spent with the Inquisition, making advances Grey had only turned down because he wasn't intending on staying long. No, he was jealous because _he_ wanted to dance with her but couldn't find the right moment to ask her.

Hawke groaned when the young woman eyed a trellis and looked up at him with bright green eyes that announced, even before she did, "I'm going to climb it." Of course she was going to climb it. Why wouldn't the Herald of Andraste and Inquisitor climb the bloody trellis? That wouldn't invite any questions at all. "Watch my back?" she asked playfully, already heading to the lattice that hung off the wall with a little skip in her step.

Hawke rolled his eyes but followed. "Always, my lady," he replied, a low note in his voice that bordered on flirtatious. As she began her ascent, Hawke turned around and eyed the party-goers, looking for anyone who might try to interfere. Aside from an odd glance or two, no one said anything about the Inquisitor scaling the walls.

It was suspiciously quiet once Valena was out of sight. He didn't so much as hear her boots scuffling up on the balcony. Grey was just thinking maybe he should give up his post and go check on her when her face suddenly appeared at the top of the wall, red hair tumbling forward and hanging down like a crimson waterfall. "Grey!" she whisper-shouted, glee clear in her voice. "Come up here!" The former Champion obliged, scaling the lattice with little difficulty. When he made it to the top he immediately saw why she was so excited. Starting on the balcony and heading inside were blood spatters. Valena hopped with excitement at his side. "We get to ditch the party for a while!" she sang happily. "I just need to find out where Leliana hid our weapons."

"Orrr," Grey drew out, giving her a mischievous look, "we could break into the vault."

Valena's mouth popped into a little 'O' shape before a grin overtook her face. "You're my favorite person in all of Thedas right now. I hope you understand that."

Grey indulged in the little flutter his heart gave. "What are friends for?"

Surprising him, Valena stood on tip toe and laid a loud kiss on his cheek. "Let's go!" she exclaimed, already heading back down the lattice. Grey froze in place for a moment, his hand touching his cheek where she'd kissed him but her impatient exclamation of, "Grey!" brought him back to himself. He followed her down, still reeling from the unusual display of affection and overjoyed by it as well.

That joy carried through the rest of the evening. It warmed him as they stalked the halls, trying to be gone in short bursts so that their absences weren't noted all the way through preventing Celene's assassination and seeing to Florianne's death.

It may have even lasted him all throughout the next week if he hadn't found Valena on one of the many balconies later that evening, leaning over the railing and looking out at the horizon pensively. He'd thought she'd be happy. They'd done what they'd set out to do in preventing the Empress' murder and she'd seemed in good spirit earlier. "You know," he began, coming to lean on the balcony at her side, "if you keep making that face, it will stick like that."

One side of her mouth ticked up in a half smile. "I'm pretty sure that's an old wive's tale," she replied.

Hawke turned towards her, resting his back on the railing and folding his arms over his chest. "I can't believe you're willing to risk your beautiful face to test that theory." When she didn't respond beyond a tired, forced smile, Hawke's eyebrows drew together in concern. "Are you alright?" he asked, serious this time.

Valena sighed deeply, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "I'm just worn out. Tonight has been... very long."

Grey nodded. "It has," he agreed, "but I think we deserve a little bit of fun. Celene is alive, Orlais is in one piece. We need to celebrate the little victories."

"The little victories," she repeated softly to herself. A moment later, her face softened and she nodded, straightening up to her full height. "You're right," she agreed, another smile gracing her beautiful lips, still tired but genuine. "We do need to have a bit of fun. What do you suggest?"

"Perhaps we should find Dorian those scarves for that dance," Hawke joked, reaching out to escort her back into the ball room.

Valena looked at the proffered hand curiously for a moment, not reaching out to take it like she had a half dozen other times this evening. Hawke was about to ask what was wrong now when she met his eyes and asked, "What about you?"

Grey blinked, confused. "What? I don't know anything about dancing with scar-"

Valena giggled, cutting him off with a wave of her hands. "No, I don't mean the scarf dance. I mean... just a dance. With you. And me."

Grey's eyebrows shot to his hairline and a blush rose in his cheeks. "I- err- well..." Valena stared at him expectantly as he stumbled over himself, looking a little amused. Grey took a deep breath to steady himself before trying again; "What I mean is, yes, Valena. I would love to dance with you."

The elvhen woman beamed, now gracefully accepting the hand that he offered her. He bowed and she dipped into a little curtsy, before drawing closer into the dance formation. Grey was grateful he was wearing gloves otherwise she would have felt how sweaty his palms had become. Their clasped hands were raised into the dancer's frame his mother ha drilled into him after they'd regained their noble status in Kirkwall and his hand wrapped around her waist, gently resting on her lower back. They were beginning mid-song but Grey picked up the beat easily and began to lead her around the balcony.

Valena followed effortlessly, light on her feet and, surprisingly, even seeming familiar with the dance. She met his gaze, anticipated his lead and never faltered. After a few moments, Grey grew ambitious and spun her out. Valena's laugh was surprised and exuberant as she spun out and then back in, ending up wrapped in Grey's arms. The feeling of her back pressed to his chest did things to Grey's nerves, sending little shocks of warmth and ecstasy all over. He would have held her all night if he could have.

But, eventually he did have to spin her back out, returning to the stiff, formal frame of the waltz they'd begun in. Grey would have done anything to know what she'd do if he leaned down and kissed her right then. He stared into her eyes, looking for the answer, for some hint of what he was feeling in her. But he didn't see it. She stared back, seemingly innocent and unaware of the passion that roiled just beneath the former Champion's calm facade. The song changed to one slower. Grey saw this as his moment - he could pull back, excuse himself and run off to regain control of his bubbling emotions, but as was her way, she foiled him yet again. She stepped closer instead of separating for the slower number, keeping their hands clasped and surging forward to lay her head on his chest. Grey truly wished she wouldn't because there was no way she wouldn't hear his heartbeat thundering away.

If she did hear it, she gave no indication. They gently swayed to the soft tune, Grey eventually relaxing into the dance, even so much as to gently lay his cheek atop her head.

"You're an excellent dancer," she commented after a long stretch of silence.

"I could say the same of you," he replied, and after a second's contemplation, tacking on, "Where did you learn to waltz?"

"A magician never reveals her secrets," she teased, smiling into his chest.

Gregory sighed but smiled. Sometimes it felt like there was nothing but secrets between them. She did not speak of her past and he did not speak of his present nor dare contemplate the future. "As you wish, my lady."

The two continued to saw for quite some time, entirely unaware of the eyes that were on them. Varric and Dorian stood in the doorway to the balcony, having been sent to retrieve the Inquisitor and the Champion for a quick debriefing and for plans to be made for the return to Skyhold but neither had wanted to interrupt the two as they swayed, lost in their own little world.

"Do you think he knows yet?" Varric asked the mage, trying to keep his voice low so as not to be noticed yet.

Dorian shook his head. "No. Handsome though he may be, he seems to be quite dense when it comes to flirting - and her more than anyone."

Varric nodded thoughtfully. Truthfully, this shouldn't come as a surprise. Though Hawke generally came off as smooth and witty, he'd never been good at reading flirting. Varric didn't think that Hawke had ever caught on to Fenris' interest in him in the ten years they'd spent together and he'd only caught onto Isabela's because she was about as subtle as a stampeding druffalo. And then she'd stampeded right over his heart when she stole the Qunari relic and took off, never to be seen again. The dwarf had always thought Hawke had avoided seeking another relationship afterwards but perhaps he had genuinely not realized there were others who fancied him? That certainly seemed to be the case now as he observed the two of them.

"Do you think we should start dropping him hints?" Varric asked, only half joking. Valena was already dropping hints - her asking him to dance being only the most recent and boldest in a string of thinly veiled invitations to pursue her - but Hawke clearly wasn't picking any of them up, if his tortured pining was anything to go by.

Dorian chuckled, clapping the dwarf on the shoulder companionably. "Now, my friend, where would be the fun in that?" the Tevinter man asked. "What do you think the odds are he tells her before the end of the year?"

Varric thought about it, looking the two of them over. The closeness of the dance was good progress, but Hawke, despite his intelligence, had also proven to be dumb as a door nail when it came to this woman. "Probably not by the end of this year," Varric sighed. "I'd say... give it another 8 months or so. Late spring or summer of next year."

"I say in winter of this one. Our dear Inquisitor does seem to be getting quite impatient with him."

That did seem to be the case, but Varric had also been around for Isabela and Hawke's three year long cloud of sexual tension and Isabela was a woman of far less tact. If this took less than two years, Varric would be utterly thrilled and it would be worth shelling out the coin to Dorian. "You've got a bet, Sparkler." The two men shook hands before slowly turning a fading back into the party. Giving them a moment longer wouldn't hurt anything.

* * *

Valena couldn't even recall the last time she had been this soused, she realized as she staggered away from the table and towards the roaring hearth of the fireplace. Probably before Miri had been born. Josephine and Leliana had conspired to find out her birthday, writing her clan behind her back and had surprised her with a party after she'd put the littles down for the evening. It was her own doing, not realizing Sera was up to something when she asked her to come down to the Herald's rest for a pint and a chat about the Jennies. When she'd arrived, she'd found the tavern full of people, all of which yelled "SURPRISE!" when she came through the door.

Luckily for them, she didn't end up burning down the tavern in her alarm, though she had raised a hand in defense. Also lucky for them, Hawke knew her pretty well by now and had stood directly behind the door, catching her arm before she could have done any damage. And then he'd gone toe to toe with her, matching her drink for drink as pretty much the whole tavern bought her a round.

It was nice to have a party, a night dedicated to her, she thought. The Dalish didn't celebrate birthdays. Her former keeper had probably thought Leliana was batty when she sent a letter asking which day, specifically, the Inquisitor was born. Still she was grateful to the two women. It felt good to unwind.

Valena basked on the floor in front of the fire, slouched against a post until someone yelled, "WATCH'ER!" and a pillow flew through the air, smacking her on the side of the head. The offending projectile fell to the floor with a little 'fwump', having been entirely ineffectual. As Valena expected, when she looked up to see who'd thrown the pillow, Sera was standing there, doubled over she was snickering so hard. Valena just smiled, grabbing the pillow and stuffing it behind her so she could lean back against it.

"The room's spinning, but it's like a dance, not like drowning. So warm. Full of love and warmth. And happy, too. Can't remember the last time my heart bubbled this way-"

"Whoa, Cole!" Valena exclaimed turning around to face the young man, startling him. "Sorry," she apologized, paying special attention to her s's. "Please leave my thoughts in my brain, okay?"

Cole nodded. "You... look happy," he tried instead.

Valena smiled warmly at the young man. "I am, Cole. I am." At that moment, Varric came to retrieve the two of them for a round of Wicked Grace, but Valena waved him off. "Go on and play a round without me. I couldn't win against you or Josie right now if my life depended on it."

"That's true when you're sober too, Val," Varric teased with a chuckle, but grasped Cole on the shoulder. "Alright, kid, why don't you come join us. Just... don't talk to the face cards again, please."

Valena made a rude gesture at Varric's back when he turned, dragging Cole back to the table with him but there was no real malice behind it. Cole had been correct - she was happy. And nothing could ruin her good mood. In fact, her mood only improved when her best friend plopped down on the rug next to her and handed her another tankard of ale. Gregory's cheeks were flushed and his hair was just a little mussed. Valena couldn't help the little bit of a blush that rose to her cheeks as she looked him over, wondering what it would be like to run her fingers through his thick dark locks...

"Now, now," Hawke admonished mockingly, wagging a finger at her like she'd been very bad indeed, "that's not a gesture polite ladies should make." Unable to even pretend to be serious, he cracked a smile and took another drink from his tankard.

Valena's lips twisted into a sarcastic half smile. "It's a good thing I'm no lady then, huh?"

Hawke rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, Val. You're the epitome of masculinity. Where's that flower crown you were wearing yesterday?"

"My daughter made that for me. I'm just being a good mom," Valena lied, tipping her own ale to her lips and avoiding eye contact so she didn't have to make eye contact with him, even though she could feel his disbelieving stare boring into the side of her head.

Grey was staring at her but bringing up Miri and her flower crowns had brought something else to the forefront of his mind. And now, he was just drunk enough to not think too much before asking the question that had been on the tip of his tongue for months. "Speaking of your kids..." he hedged, prompting her to look at him with raised eyebrows, "why does Balor look so different from you and Miri?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, clapping a hand over her mouth in surprise and then giggling. "Oh, creators. I can't believe I never told you this. Balor isn't mine."

Hawke's jaw dropped and he nearly spilled his tankard of ale all down his front. Of all the explanations he'd come up with in his head, this never had crossed his mind. "Come again?" he asked, still reeling.

Valena giggled a little more at his expression. "Well, not mine in the sense that I did not carry him or birth him. I will always consider him my son, of course. I've been raising him since he was only a few weeks old." Hawke's shock didn't lessen at her explanation. Really, he looked quite cute, his surprise endearing. Even so, she pressed on, "A hunter in my clan did not return - I believe a bear killed her - and the father was not among us, having been a passing fancy in a different clan we made contact with. The clan took turns caring for him until it was determined that his mother was unlikely to ever return and so the keeper asked for a volunteer to care for the babe. Miri was two at the time and my husband, Aurelis, and I had been discussing having another child of late. It felt like fate that a needy baby was dropped in our laps."

Grey's brain had short circuited. Somewhere down the line, he'd convinced himself that Balor looked like Valena's late husband and that's why he looked different from his mother or sister and that's why she occasionally looked at him sadly. Adoption seemed unthinkable. Even worse, he was really quite too drunk to be processing this sort of information. It was making him feel things. Shock was chief among those feelings, of course, but also admiration, respect and a surge of affection.

"He... has your eyes," Hawke protested weakly, still struggling to process this news.

Her laughter was a like a chime, tinkling and wrapping around him enchantingly. Her face scrunched up adorably. "I hate to break it to you, Grey, but green eyes are exceptionally common in the Dalish clans." That was... fair. Merrill had big green eyes, too, after all. He'd never really paid attention before, but many members of her clan may have possessed green eyes as well. Now that was something he'd be looking for every time he ran across an elf. After her giggles subsided, she looked at him and cocked her head to the side, studying his face. Her cheeks were red, her face relaxed, but her eyes were sharp, despite the alcohol. "Gregory... you know Miri is half human, do you not?" she asked with a raised brow.

Hawke had suspected that for quite some time, yes. Her features were softer, her ears not as pointed and she just seemed... clumsier than elves, even elvhen children generally came across. Hesitantly, he nodded. "I... thought so, yes."

Valena's eyes softened in understanding. "You thought they might have different fathers."

It wasn't a question and he couldn't deny that the thought had crossed his mind a time or two. There was still so much mystery surrounding her life before the Conclave blast and the Inquisition. He didn't know how long ago her husband died - nor how - and he couldn't blame her for seeking comfort after his loss. Grey gulped but nodded, sheepishly stammering, "I-I thought maybe a-after your husband passed..." Grey trailed off, unable to finish the thought for the wave of shame that swept through him, and his head fell, unable to meet her gaze any longer.

Valena's hand was on his arm in the next moment, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Grey looked up, surprised by the softness that still resided in her eyes. "I'm not angry, Grey. I didn't tell you and it's not like you accused me of something horrible. It's alright." She sat back and her grin turned just a touch sarcastic. "I can't believe it took you so long to bring it up, though. The curiosity would have eaten me alive, if I were in your shoes."

Hawke gritted his teeth, deciding not to tell her that it _had_ been eating at him for several months. Grey cleared his throat, deciding that he was going all in tonight - in for a copper, in for a gold - and said, "So... Aurelis?"

A pang of regret shot through Grey when her smile faded and her eyes dropped to her mug. He couldn't let himself take it back, though. Not now. So he waited, as patiently as he was able, for her to be ready to talk about it. Valena didn't raise her eyes, but she did start speaking, gaze still boring into her remaining ale like it held all the answers; "Aurelis and I met when we were children, actually. My clan stopped in the town his father was Bann over every two years or so. Bann Brighton Cathrie was a good man and encouraged peace and trade with us. Aurelis and his older brothers would sometimes come play with us and wrangle the Halla. When we grew older, Aurelis was delighted by my magic and he taught me how to use a bow. We grew close but... I never thought he was serious about me. He was a shem - handsome and kind, but different." A sad smile tugged at her lips as she remembered. "Then, as we were about to pull up the aravels one spring and move on, he showed up and declared that he'd follow me all through Thedas." Hawke smiled at that. A man of good taste, then. "And... he did. We married the next spring and Miri was born a few years after."

A tear slipped down her cheek that Hawke desperately wanted to reach out and wipe away, but he remembered the incident with Miri and how she'd shied from his touch then. Instead, he offered his hand and she took it with a wobbly stretch of her lips that didn't quite resemble mirth. "He died a year after we took in Balor. The clan ran into some darkspawn, there was a scuffle... and he ended up with the taint and died a few days later."

More tears began to stream down her face. Hawke took a quick look around, grateful that the tavern had begun to empty so there were few around to witness her breakdown and most of the remaining occupants were gathered around the table where a round of Wicked Grace was being played - Hawke briefly noticed that Cullen had lost his shirt again already. Hesitantly, he moved closer and reached out for her. She let him gather her smaller frame up and bring her close in a tight embrace, burying her face in his chest. Grey felt her heaving and the tears soaking through his shirt but her sobs were quiet.

Grey rested his chin on her head and she fisted her hand in his shirt. He wished he knew how to comfort her. "I'm sorry, Valena," he whispered to her softly, over and over again, but it was inadequate. He knew it wasn't enough - that it wasn't the right thing to say - but it was all he could think of.

Valena pulled back a short while later with a hiccup. Grey reached out without thinking this time and wiped away her tear tracks with his thumbs. Surprisingly, she let him. Even more surprisingly, she leaned into his touch so that he ended up cupping her cheek. A small smile turned up the corners of her lips, not entirely happy, but... contented. Their gazes were locked and Grey's breath caught in his throat. The urge to kiss her was overpowering, palpable even, and he began to lean forward unconsciously. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he saw her beginning to lean forward, too.

A commotion at the table broke the spell between them. A chair banged on the floor, startling both of them and causing Grey to drop his hand from her cheek. Sera had sprang up from her chair, knocking it back with her momentum, and was currently sprinting out the door with a piece of fabric fluttering out behind her like a banner, cackling.

"Sera!" Cullen exclaimed in rage, springing up himself. "Get back here with my pants!" The Knight Commander ran after the blond elf. This time, at least, he left the table with the dignity of his small clothes.

"You've got no breeches!" Sera screeched in delight.

The table broke out in chuckles and Grey and Valena joined in. The Inquisitor righted herself, combing through her mussed locks with her fingers and straightening her blouse. "I'd better go play a round of Wicked Grace and then head off to bed." She stood and Grey did as well. "And... thank you."

Grey was surprised. He only remembered making her cry. "For what?"

Valena's smile was a little muted but genuine. "It felt good to talk about Aurelis. I've kept him close to my heart for so long... I'll have to tell you more about him one day."

Grey smiled in return, happy that he could relieve some of the burden from her. "He sounds like a great man. I'd love to hear about him."

Valena reached out and gave him a quick hug. Grey returned the squeeze with surprise and was disappointed when it ended so quickly. Valena shyly averted her gaze and tucked a lock behind her ear. "Goodnight, Grey."

"Goodnight, Valena."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Meaningful Moments

* * *

"Ser Hawke!" a panicked sounding voice called from the other side of the door, accompanied by some frantic knocking, rousing the former Champion from his sleep. Gregory groaned drowsily and sat up blearily, immediately hunching over and cradling his head in his hands. He managed to pry an eye open and look out the window, finding it was still quite dark outside, only lightening a little right at the edge of the horizon. What in the Maker's name was someone doing pounding on his door this early? "Ser Hawke!"

"Yeah, yeah, c'mon in," the mage replied groggily, still hunched. He couldn't quite find the strength to straighten.

His door opened and a servant came through. His hair was disheveled and he looked exhausted himself. Grey looked up at him, one eye still pressed shut as he struggled to stay awake long enough to receive the message. "Ser Hawke," the servant began, a little breathless, "young Lord Balor isn't feeling well. He won't sleep, he wants his mother, but m'lady won't be able to return for at least two more days." Hawke sat up a little straighter, now prying open the one eye he'd had closed, concern for the young boy clearing the clouds of sleep from his mind a little. "He asked for you to come tell him a story, Ser Hawke."

Grey grabbed the edge of the blankets and threw them off before the servant had finished the sentence. "He asked for you," was all he needed to hear and he was suddenly wide awake. He grabbed the nearest tunic and threw it on over his bare torso and pulled on the closest pair of trousers. "I'll take care of it," Grey assured the servant, clapping the gentleman on his shoulder as walked past and exited his room.

Luckily, Grey's room wasn't terribly far from Valena's private quarters where her children also lived, even in her absence. He descended the stairs and crossed the main hall, bare feet slapping against the cold stones of the keep's floor. He was at her door in a matter of minutes from when he'd been awoken.

Grey pushed the door open, ascending the stairs into her room. A fire blazed in the corner, having recently been tended if the amount of wood remaining was anything to go by, and the floors were covered with large, lavish rugs. A large, four poster bed sat against a wall, close to the center of the room, the two children snuggled in the covers only taking up a tiny fraction. Miri was wrapped around her brother, petting the top of his head soothingly, a look of tired concern creasing her young little face. Balor looked terrible. His face was flushed, visible even with his darker complexion, tear tracks stained his cheeks and he looked to be shaking, even though he was tucked under a thick blanket.

"Hey, buddy," Grey greeted softly as he approached the bed. "I heard your not feeling too good."

Balor looked pitiful as he nodded. "My throat h-hurts," the boy complained tearfully and with a strained, scratchy voice.

Sympathy filled the mage. For all the healing magic that existed in Thedas, there wasn't much one could do for the common cold. Sealing up near-mortal wounds? Easy. Getting rid of the sniffles? That'll take three to five days and your best bet is tea with lemon and honey. No poultices, no potions. He turned towards Miri, and asked, "You mind if I come lay with you guys?"

Miri shook her head, her tangled blond curls haloing around her head with her vigor. The little girl planted a kiss on her brother's head and then scooted away, patting the space where she'd been, indicating that she wanted Hawke to lay between them - like he'd seen Valena do while they were camping, in the past.

Grey carefully angled himself as he slid into the bed, careful not to accidentally hit Balor as he made his way over him, landing between the two children clumsily but without incident. As soon as he did, he gathered Balor up in one arm and pulled the little boy close, flush against his side. He was quite warm, probably running a fever, but was still shaking. Before he could repeat the same with Miri, she'd snuggled into his other side. His chest filled with warmth. "So what story do you want to hear?" he asked, tenderly brushing her knotted curls away from her face and stroking Balor's arm.

"Tell us about the haunted mansion!" Miri exclaimed with delight.

"No!" Balor refuted, his voice straining with his vehemence. "No ghost stories. Scary."

Miri pushed herself up on her elbow to peek over Hawke at her brother, a little frown creasing her face. "Balor," she whined, petulantly, "I want to hear about the haunted mansion again."

Sensing a sibling fight about to break out, Grey gently diffused the situation; "Now, now," he said calmly, "we don't want anyone to be scared. How about I tell you guys a brand new story? That will be fun, right?"

"Yeah!" Miri exclaimed and Balor echoed his sister in his rough voice.

Grey smiled, but it was a little sad. Sometimes, these two reminded him so much of his days with Bethany and Carver, it hurt. Still, it was also nice to remember those days. That was what inspired him to tell the story he did. "So when I was young, probably about twelve, my brother, my sister and I got tired of a bunch of templars that kept sniffing around our house so we decided to do something about it..." Grey launched into the tale of the series of pranks they'd played on Lothering's templars that ultimately lead to them avoiding the Hawke household at all costs.

Midway through the story, he heard Balor begin snoring in that congested way people did when they were sick. A quick look at Miri confirmed that she was snoozing away as well. Contentedly, Hawke pulled both kids closer. Looking at both of their little faces so carefree and relaxed as they slept incited protective, loving feelings in him that he'd never felt before. After a time, their gentle breathing lulled him to sleep as well.

That was how Valena found the three of them when she walked up the stairs into her room a few hours later. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight and she honestly thought she might cry. Leliana had sent a raven to let her know that Balor was sick and she'd hopped on a horse and rushed back to Skyhold as soon as she could. She'd expected Balor to be in bed, crying, one of the hold's nannies desperately trying to calm him while Miri looked on, worry making her cry too. Valena had never expected to find Grey in her bed, her son and daughter held in either of his arms and sleeping soundly. Balor had a faint sheen on his forehead, speaking of his fever, and yet, Grey had managed to get him calm enough to fall asleep.

Valena felt a little weak in the knees at the sight and was glad the banister was there so she could support herself. Seeing the way Miri had buried her face in his side and how Balor hugged the man's arm where it was slung over him was almost too much for her to take. Most of all, Grey was mussed, bags under his eyes, and yet he slept peacefully, the smallest of smiles turning up the corners of his lips.

For a moment, her past and her future overlapped in a beautiful picture. Aurelis with his golden hair splayed out on the pillow, a little bundle on his chest and a little girl snuggled into his side melded with the image of Grey now. The image made her heart hammer.

Valena tried to move quietly towards the balcony, unlocking it and slipping out. A gust of cold mountain air assaulted her face and she hurried to close the balcony door behind her so as not to wake any of the sleeping occupants of her quarters. The first light of day was just beginning to peak over the horizon but the sky was still mostly dark. She leaned against the door, grateful for the fresh air out here. Harvestmere was coming to an end and Firstfall would be upon them soon, making the air chillier with the approaching winter. Still, she felt she truly needed to be out here, so she wrapped her arms around her tightly and made her way to the rail of the balcony.

There was something she needed to say now.

Valena sighed, her breath coming out in a puff of white in the cold, swiftly carried away by the breeze. "I don't know how the fade works," she admitted to herself aloud, "and I don't know if I believe in the creators or the maker or any of it. But in case you're near and in case you can hear me, I have something I want to say. I love you, Aurelis. I always have, ever since we were children. The day you died-" Tears sprang to her eyes and a tightness overtook her throat, choking her before she could finish. She swallowed it and pushed forward, continuing, "The day you died, my heart fractured. It's never fully recovered and many of those pieces still love you. They will never stop; you will always be embedded in my heart.

"But... I love him, too. Seeing him in their with our children made it click. It's not just affection or lust, like I thought..." She trailed off and paused to look back through the window at her children and the man in between them who had stolen her heart somewhere along the way. They looked like a family, waiting for her to crawl into bed with them and complete the picture. She wanted to complete it, needed to, even. But first... Valena turned her back on the room once more to give the empty sky that stretched out in front of her all her attention. "It's love. And though you will always be a part of me, if I want to give myself to him fully, I need to say goodbye and stop holding onto you so tight."

It might have been her imagination, but she thought that the wind around her warmed and the breeze gentled from a harsh gust to a gentle caress. Valena could almost feel Aurelis' presence around her. Even if she was only imagining it, it was still a comfort. "I hope to see you, if there's a next world or in the fade. But for now... farewell, my love."

Silently, Valena slipped back inside her quarters, wiping away the tear tracks that streamed down her face with the sleeve of her coat. As quietly as possible, she changed out of her leathers and light plate, looking back every now and again to make sure the trio was still asleep in bed. She dressed herself in a long nightgown and then approached the foot of the bed, gently shaking Grey's foot to rouse him.

Grey lifted his head from the pillow, eyes flying around blindly for what was disrupting his sleep. "Wazzit now?" he slurred, slightly annoyed. Then he squinted and asked, "Valena? Wha're you doin' here?"

The redhead swallowed the giggle that threatened, but couldn't stop the smile that spread across her lips. She put up a finger to her lips to indicate that he needed to be quiet. "I got back early. I can take over for you, if you want."

Grey blinked slowly, clearly still not fully awake. "'M okay here," he replied, glancing down at the littles nestled against him.

Valena's heart threatened to burst with the wave of affection that coursed through her. "Then do you mind if I join you?"

That seemed to wake him up a little and she saw his eyes course over her form, clad only in a thin white shift. It should have embarrassed her but it only managed to excite her. "Uh, no," he finally said, "I don't mind."

Valena smiled, softly padding around the side of the bed to go lay down on the other side of Balor, gently lowering herself onto the mattress so that she faced the little boy. He looked peaceful, for being sick, something her poor son had never handled very well. In a thoughtful move, Grey moved the arm that had been cradling the boy so that Valena could nestle Balor into her chest instead. As she drew her boy closer, she looked over at the sleepy man on the other side of her son - a man who'd probably ran up here in the middle of the night to take care of her sick child. His eyelids were drooping over his sky blue eyes, his hair was a matted mess, and Miri was probably drooling on his arm and yet, he'd never been more handsome to her. "Try to get some sleep, Grey," she whispered. "They'll probably wake us up in an hour or two."

Grey nodded, then let out a yawn. "Mmmkay," he hummed softly, his eyes already drifting shut. "Good night, Valena."

"Good night, Grey."

* * *

Satinalia was upon them and all of Skyhold had exploded in activity. The festivities were a little muted in light of the battle against Corypheus and the hole in the sky that was hovering over their heads, day in and day out. Still, the residents of Skyhold had donned their masks and were holding feasts in the great hall every evening. It was great fun. The merchants in the courtyard were merry as well, having made a number of sales. Gifts were customary around this time, after all.

Grey was browsing the stalls for just such a purpose. He'd already found Varric's gift - that had been easy enough when he found the arrows that burst into flame mid-flight - and he had also found gifts for Dorian and Lady Josephine. Dorian was getting a book on ancient runes and Josie was getting some very fancy stationary for her personal use. Josephine enjoyed correspondence with her family back home in Antiva - it was about time she had stationary that matched her personality. Leliana was going to get a pair of shoes, thanks to a tip from Josephine and Blackwall was getting some new tools for all the carving he did. The older gentleman did such a nice job carving out toys for all the children of Skyhold, it seemed high time he had some more suitable tools. Additionally, he'd acquired a dragon horn tankard for Bull and some flash bombs for Sera.

That was almost everyone he'd become close with since coming to stay at Skyhold. Only three people were missing. A certain Inquisitor and her two little ones were proving to be the most difficult gifts to pick out.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He had an idea for Balor but he wasn't entirely certain it was appropriate for a four year old or if Valena would be comfortable with what he had in mind and he didn't want to step on any parental boundaries. He wasn't entirely certain what to get Miri - most anything pretty would work, he should think, but he didn't want to give her just _anything_ especially since his idea for Balor's gift was quite personal.

Valena was the biggest challenge of all. What do you get the woman who rules a piece of the world? Who has castle and servants, soldiers, spies and everything at her beck and call? Even with nearly two years at her side under his belt now, he still felt lost when it came to what she wanted.

Grey groaned to himself, setting down a pair of earrings. What was he even doing? Were Valena's ears even pierced? He didn't think so. And Miri's definitely weren't.

"Monsieur? Is somezing ze matter?" the lady who who ran this particular stall asked in her heavy Orlesian accent, peaking out at him from under the mask that hid almost her entire face.

"No, no," Grey hurried to correct. "Nothing wrong. I just don't know what to get, er... someone."

"It is a woman," she said knowingly. It wasn't a question and her eyes twinkled with mirth.

Grey thought about arguing. He really did. It would have been so easy to refute her claim and move on. On the other hand, he was so _tired_ of hiding how he felt. So he nodded. "Yeah, it would be for a woman." Even just admitting that much felt pretty good.

"You can't go wrong with jewelry!" the vendor exclaimed, digging under the table where her wares were laid out.

Grey waved his hand, starting to say, "Oh, no, it's alright, she's not really a jewelry pers-" and cut off when she set down a tray of beautiful necklaces before him. Grey had meant it a moment ago when he said that Valena wasn't one for jewelry - in all the time he'd known her, she hadn't worn anything ornamental that Josie and Leliana hadn't forced on her. Even her wedding band was no longer on her hand, stowed carefully away in a box in her room. He'd seen it one day when Miri was playing dress up. But the necklace the vendor had laid before him was screaming at him. Gently, he picked the necklace up as if it were fragile. "How much for this?" he asked.

The saleswoman seemed to think about it for a moment and Grey groaned internally, expecting her to list some ridiculous price now that she knew it was for someone special. However, after the pause, she said, "Mm, ten gold."

Grey balked. Surely the necklace was worth twice that amount. "Are you certain?" he asked.

If he wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw the glow of a smile beneath the mask. "I have a soft spot for love," she replied.

Grey's grin actually hurt his cheeks and he forked over the ten gold happily, quickly stowing the necklace in his pocket, away from prying eyes. He didn't need the gossips of Skyhold getting a hold of the news that the Champion had bought a necklace and word making it to Valena beforehand, thus ruining the surprise. He already knew exactly when he'd give it to her, too. Apparently Balor and Miri had made him gifts, as well as a number of the other members of the Inquisition who frequently accompanied Valena, so she'd invited him to have a more private dinner with her and some of the inner circle tonight. When everyone else cleared out, he'd give it to her. It would be perfect.

After that, Miri's gift came to him in a snap and he headed up to his quarters with his haul, feeling lighter than air.

In light of the festivities, he even decided to dress up a little. He adorned dark trousers and a deep red tunic embroidered with gold, topping the whole thing off with a golden bird mask he'd bought on a whim when he was browsing earlier. Grey had loved running around in masks with his brother and sister during Satinalia when he was younger. Looking at himself in the mirror gave him a twinge of nostalgia, though it wasn't unpleasant.

Before long, it was time to go to dinner. Everyone else was flooding into the main hall for roast turkeys, candied nuts and pies but he slipped through the crowd towards the quieter (for once) Herald's rest, his gifts in a bag that he slung over his shoulder.

When he entered the tavern, he wasn't greeted with Maryden strumming for once but scattered greetings of the inner circle, the advisers and Iron Bull's Chargers, who were all gathered around a table. Some wore masks like he did - Sera's had large eyes that moved this way and that anytime she moved her head, delighting Miri. They sat down around a massive roast pig, spiced ale, warm fresh bread and a myriad of other holiday foods that Josie and Leliana had no doubt arranged for. Speaking of the two advisers, they were in fine form tonight. Leliana had abandoned the cowl, threading little beads throughout the braids that framed her face. Josie had let her hair down, so to speak, as well, and wore a pretty blue gown with her hair cascading in dark waves down her back. They both looked beautiful. Even Cullen didn't look so tight-assed, sans armor.

Valena had apparently even managed to coerce her children into dressing up. Both had masks, though Miri had already pushed her's up off her face and it rested on top of her head instead. Balor's kept sliding down his nose, much to the little boy's chagrin. He kept swiping it back into place impatiently. Miri was in a deep pinkish-red dress and Balor had been forced into a forest green tunic.

Valena herself looked radiant. In the long sleeved red gown, she could have passed as an angel. The deep scarlet set off the similar hue of her hair and contrasted beautifully with her deep green eyes. It was also shockingly low cut and form-fitting - a very unusual style for the elvhen woman.

Balor and Miri raced through their meals so quickly, Grey was shocked that neither ended up sick. The two children practically vibrated with their eagerness to get to exchanging their presents. Valena smiled on at them indulgently when they begged, "Please, _Mamae_ , please, can we do presents _now_?" before hardly anyone had finished their dinner.

"You can hand out your gifts to everyone but you have to wait till dinner is over before you get any of their gifts," Valena bargained. Grey expected disappointed sighs, not the excited gasps they gave as the children headed back to where an untidy pile lay. The whispered to each other, passing pieces of paper and other little items back and forth between the two of them and slowly making their way around the table. A number of them got drawings from both children, since Valena had them make their gifts, though a few of them got other little odds and ends. Sera was so delighted with the picture of a bee that Miri gave her that she pinned it to her shirt.

Balor reached him first with Miri still down at the other end of the table. The four year old was nervously palming something, shielding it slightly behind his back. Grey smiled encouragingly, prompting him with, "What do you have for me, buddy?"

Shyly, Balor held out his hand and opened it. Some beads had been strung together along with... was that a button? Yes, it was a button, strung together with the beads. It was far too short to be a bracelet and it didn't look like an earring, not that Grey's ears were pierced in any case. Grey was still considering it when Balor piped up and explained, "It's a good luck charm. You wrap it around your staff. So you're always safe." The little boy looked down shyly and scuffed the toe of his shoe against the wood of the floor.

Grey hadn't brought his staff to dinner, otherwise he would have wrapped the charm around it that moment. Instead, he tucked it carefully into the pouch on his belt and scooped up the boy with a playful "rawr!" and gave him a big bear hug. Balor shrieked and laughed. Grey began to tickle Balor mercilessly, grinding out, "You are such a great kid. I can't believe you were nervous to give me such a thoughtful present."

Valena watched from a few seats away, enamored with the sight of Grey tickling her son until he was gasping for breath. The smile on Balor's face was gigantic when he wrapped his arm's around Grey's neck once the dark haired mage let up on the tickle torture and said, "I love you, Uncle Hawke."

Grey wore a similar grin as he returned the embrace. "I love you, too, kid."

Valena could have melted onto the table right then and there. She only just barely managed to stop herself from letting out a dreamy sigh like a love struck girl. The red-haired woman distracted herself by watching as Miri presented Josie with a new quill - one of the few gifts the children had actually been allowed to buy rather than make. Josie's delight with the pink feather proved a good enough distraction that Valena was able to return to watching the kids give out there gifts without too much incident. At least, until Miri gave Grey her gift.

Miri's smile was brilliant as she handed over a rolled up piece of paper, tied neatly together with a red ribbon. It occurred to Valena that she didn't know what Miri had drawn for Hawke when, after he unrolled the paper, he sucked in a sharp breath, swiftly holding the parchment to his chest like it was a valuable gem. Then he scooped her up, much as he had done Balor, but instead of tickling her, he held her tightly to him, burying his face into her shoulder.

Valena's curiosity was piqued but before she could get a good look at the paper, he folded it up neatly and stashed it under the lapel of his tunic, laying a messy kiss on Miri's cheek before he set her down.

Grey felt like the paper nestled against his chest was warm to the touch and his heart was beating a mile a minute. The drawing wasn't what had done it - she'd actually made him look sort of like a wolf man, over exaggerating his whiskers and hair, especially next to the much softer depiction of her mother. But, over her mother's head she'd wrote " _Mamae_ " in messy, childish script and above his head, she'd written, "Papa Hawke."

 _Papa Hawke,_ rang throughout his thoughts for the rest of dinner, like the remnants of a gong. When dinner ended, he was all too eager to help clear some of the dishes off the table just for an excuse to escape into the kitchen and splash some water on his face. When he returned, both children were already surrounded by others and being showered with gifts. Valena stood off to the side, supervising as Sera gave the kids her gifts, it seemed. Seeing this as the opportunity to ask about his gift for Balor, he sidled up to her. _Papa Hawke_ was still reverberating through his brain but he squashed the thought. "Soo..." he hedged.

"What did Miri give you?" Valena asked, not batting an eyelash nor taking her eyes from her children.

Grey's heartbeat thundered in his chest and he subconsciously put his hand over where the parchment was resting against his chest. "What?"

"Miri's gift," she repeated, now turning her powerful green gaze on him, "What was it?"

Grey's brain had become totally blank. Absolutely no response seemed viable except the _truth_ and he absolutely could not tell her the _truth._ Finally, he managed to say, "It's kind of private between her and I." It sounded as inadequate as it had been when he thought it and he saw the immediate narrowing of her eyes that spoke to how much she didn't like his response. Still she dropped it.

"You wanted to ask me something, then," she noted with an air of coolness that chilled him more than the burgeoning winter air outside.

"Uh, yeah," he hesitated. He'd already upset her. This wasn't going as well as he'd hoped at all. Still, he pressed on. "I wanted to give Balor something but I wasn't sure if my gift would be okay for a boy of his age... and I wanted to see if it was okay by you, too?"

The green ice in her eyes softened a fraction. "Oh?" she inquired, interest coloring her voice.

"Yeah." The sack containing his gifts was on a nearby table and he turned, rifling through it and coming up with an object wrapped in cloth. He presented it to her, gently shedding the cloth from around the item to reveal a dagger in an ornamental sheath. "It was my first knife," Grey explained at Valena's questioning look. "It was one of the last things my father gave to me before he passed away. I wanted to teach him the basics of using it... but... uh, he's four..." Grey trailed off, scratching at the back of his head nervously. The idea felt even sillier now that he's said it out loud."

Valena didn't say anything for a long moment. She did reach out and pluck the dagger from the cloth, wordlessly, and pull it out of it's sheath, eyeing the short blade carefully. Then she slid it back in it's holster and laid it back on the cloth. "It's a very thoughtful gift." Valena's voice was warmer now and as she pressed the knife back into his hand, she looked up into his eyes. "You may give it to him, so long as you make it clear that he's not to use it until he's a little older."

A breath escaped Grey hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "Sure," he agreed, wrapping the knife back up. "Absolutely."

Valena gave him a warm smile, inclining her head.

Grey approached the children just as Blackwall finished handing over his gifts - a Halla for Miri and a nug for Balor - with his gifts in hands. He handed the wrapped knife over to Balor first. "Be very careful with this, buddy," Grey admonished as the little boy removed the cloth, revealing the sheathed knife. Grey gently took it and unsheathed it for him, showing him the glimmering edge. "You're still a little too young to use it properly, but I wanted you to have it."

Balor looked enchanted by the knife. "It's mine?" he asked in a mystified voice.

Grey nodded once. "Yes, it's yours. But," he qualified as he slid the blade back into the sheath, "you are absolutely not to use it unless your _Mamae_ or I are around to supervise you. Understood?"

The little boy nodded vigorously, mussing his midnight locks with his fervor. "Thank you, Uncle Hawke!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around the mage's neck. Grey accepted the hug, embracing the little boy back fiercely before letting him go.

"Why don't you go hand that over to your _mamae_ for safe keeping," Grey suggested, nudging Balor towards his mother. The little elf didn't need to be told twice and raced off towards his mother, exclaiming about his knife and eager to show her it. Then Grey turned to Miri, watching as she turned a curl around her finger with an impish grin on her face. "I suppose you want your gift, too," he sighed dramatically, teasing her. She nodded, curls bouncing and even managing to make her mask fall off the top of her head. Grey began digging around in his bag, pretending that he couldn't find the gift, though it was actually pretty easy.

After about a minute, Miri rolled her eyes and exclaimed, "Papa Hawke!" causing the mage to freeze for a fraction of a second. Everyone else froze too, dashing his hopes that no one else would notice it. Grey was very careful to avoid looking over at Valena, not quite ready to face her reaction.

Instead, he focused on Miri, finally bringing out her gift. They were little dancing shoes with pretty pink ribbons and little flowers embroidered in a darker pink across the soft pink satin that made up the rest of the shoes. "I was thinking you'd like to learn to dance like a proper lady. So I got you dancing shoes and I promise to practice with you whenever I can."

Miri accepted the shoes with a face-splitting grin, letting out a delighted shriek. "Thank you!" she exclaimed, squeezing the shoes to her chest and wiggling in her excitement.

Grey smiled reflexively, forgetting about the awkwardness of the incident that had occurred mere moments before, and drawing her in for a kiss on the forehead.

The night went on without further incident, no one mentioning Miri's outburst outside of some suggestive eyebrows, courtesy of a certain dwarf. Still he gave the rest of his gifts until finally, the sack sat empty and the only gift yet to be given was nestled in the pouch he had strapped to his waist, practically burning a hole in the leather. It didn't help that he was avoiding the woman it was meant for at the moment.

One by one, the group began to disperse. Cullen had to be up early the next morning for drills. Sera passed out under a table, as was her custom. Blackwall excused himself, saying he had a few more toys to give before the evening got too late. Soon, only Bull and his Chargers remained on the main level, along with Varric, Hawke and Valena. Valena had sent her children up to her quarters when Cullen headed in for the night as they'd both been starting to fall asleep. The two children had gathered up their haul of gifts into sacks - Grey handing his over for that very purpose - and the Knight-Commander assisted them with transporting them into the hold.

Valena remained by the fire, the flame casting bewitching shadows over her frame, swathed in a deep crimson. Just looking at her made Grey's mouth go dry and his heart stutter. He'd known the woman nearly two years now. Would he ever be over just how lovely she was?

Still, he gathered his courage, subconsciously clutching the pouch at his waist as he came to stand next to her before the fire. His mask had long been lost. Valena didn't flinch at his approach, still looking into the flames, arms crossed over her chest. Grey waited for a moment, seeing if she had anything to say, but when the silence stretched, he sighed. "I got you something as well."

A single blink and then, "Did you?" Valena didn't sound angry but Grey couldn't help but think he'd done something wrong anyhow. In any case, he marched on, digging out the necklace and dangling it from his finger, an offer for her to take it. The elf's eyes flicked his way then and he heard the gasp when she took in the gorgeous necklace and finally turned to face him. His heart hammered in his chest, waiting to see what she'd say. Valena didn't take the necklace, though she did rest the heart shaped pendent gently on her fingers, bringing it closer for her inspection. "It's beautiful," she breathed.

The necklace was silver, the pendent was in the shape of a heart with tiny little emeralds sitting around the outer edge and an emerald heart nestled in the center. There was also a tiny clasp on the side that popped it open when she pressed on it, allowing for a space for a tiny picture. "I thought you might want a picture of Miri and Balor with you," he said bashfully. "Perhaps Solas could paint you one."

"I love it." Valena glanced up at him with large green eyes and a little playful smile. "Will you put it on for me?"

Grey could only manage to nod under the intensity of her gaze. Her smile widened a fraction and she spun around, sweeping her mid-back length red hair over her shoulder in a smooth motion. He unclasped the necklace with little fumbling, much to his relief, bringing the silver chain over her head and around the sleek curve of her throat. It took him four tries to close the clasp again with how his fingers shook and he felt like a clumsy oaf. She spun around to face him before he could take a step back, bringing their faces a fraction to close, fingering the locket where it lay against her breastbone. "Thank you," she breathed appreciatively.

An intense flush rose in his cheeks and he swallowed tightly. "You're welcome."

There was a long pause between the two where she looked up at him and he down at her. Finally, she sighed, breaking eye contact. "You're really never going to do it, are you?" she asked.

Bewildered, Hawke's eyebrows furrowed. "Do what?"

Valena shook her head, an exasperated smile curving up her painted lips. "Screw it," she declared, swiftly reaching up and grabbing either side of Grey's scruffy face, pulling him down to her height and laying her lips against his in a hard, passionate kiss. Grey was only slowed by his surprise for a second or two before he responded enthusiastically, wrapping one arm around her waist and burying the other in the waves of her red tresses, bringing her ever closer until her body melded to his.

Varric swore as he looked on from where he sat next to Bull. "Damn, I owe Sparkler money now."

Grey was oblivious to his best friend, entirely caught up in the sweet taste of her lips, the earthy and floral mix of her scent and the smooth, supple sensation of her lips against his. Valena was similarly lost in his kiss and the tightness of his embrace, but broke away first, gasping for breath. Grey wasn't one to waste an opportunity and began to pepper her jawline with kisses. Valena giggled, pushing him back, not enough to separate them entirely, but so that she could look into his eyes. " _Now_ you're all eager," she teased breathlessly, resting her hands flat against his chest, "when mere moments ago, I didn't think you'd ever kiss me."

"I didn't know you wanted me to," he replied, equally breathless. His smile turned a touch mischievous. "Now that I know, good luck getting me to stop."

Grey brought her in for another kiss, this one slower, more exploratory. Valena reveled in his warmth, in his gentle touch, in the care that seemed to be woven into every cell of his being. Her fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket, crinkling the parchment he hid there. Now, she had a pretty good idea of what Miri's gift had contained and that just made this moment even better. Not only did she care for him and he for her but he cared for her children, too, and they loved him - enough for Miri to dub him "Papa Hawke."

Eventually, they had to break the kiss to breathe again and Valena rested her head against his chest, just as she'd done when they danced at the Winter Palace which now seemed a lifetime away. His heartbeat raced now, just as it had then, thumping steadily in his chest in a reassuring rhythm. She knew the answer to the question she asked next but needed to hear him say it anyway; "Are you mine?"

Grey gently placed a finger under her chin, urging her to look up. Green met blue and his gaze was the most loving and tender she'd ever seen. "If you'll have me."

A tear born of joy rolled down her cheek as she smiled, leaning forward to nestle her head into his chest. "Oh, I'll have you."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A Wicked Man

* * *

"Inquisitor?" Josephine called, rapping at the door lightly. A moment passed with no response so she gave another few testing raps. "Inquisitor Lavellan?" When the silence persisted, not so much as a childish giggle sounding from the room, Josephine tentatively pushed the door open and ascended the stairs that led to the massive room occupied by the Inquisitor and her two children. The Antivan woman was disappointed but not surprised to find the room devoid of life when she reached the landing, sighing deeply at the sight of the mussed, empty sheets. Josephine had suspected as much when there hadn't been an answer. Still, now she was going to have to hunt the dear woman down.

This was becoming a habit, unfortunately for the ambassador. Hawke was rarely in his quarters anymore, either, when she came to call. It was no secret as to why. All of Skyhold was aflutter with chatter about the newly blossomed romance between the Inquisitor and the Champion of Kirkwall. Even Josie herself had listened to Varric recount their kiss - and how bold of Lady Valena! - with girlish delight.

It was like reading an epic romance, come to life. And in light of that, she supposed she didn't mind hunting down the two dignitaries every morning, after all.

Still, she needed to get some things in order before the party took off for Adamant in just a few days, many of which required Valena's direct attention. Even if their venture to the Fortress went well, the Inquisitor and those she brought along were going to be gone for weeks and it was better that the larger trade deals that Josie had drawn up were approved before such an absence.

Josephine was reluctant to go outside - the first snowfall was still blanketing the grounds of their mountain fortress and with it came a bone-deep chill - and so she searched the entirety of Skyhold first. Dagna was working in the Undercroft, Solas and Dorian were both quietly occupied in the rotunda and Madam De Fer was still asleep in her chamber. Varric was writing in front of one of the large fires that roared in the main hall. In short, Josephine found just about everyone who wasn't either the Inquisitor or the Champion who resided within the walls of the hold. Eventually, she gave up, donning a thick cloak, and ventured out into the biting cold.

The snow sparkled in the still as of yet early morning light. The sun had only just risen above the battlements that surrounded Skyhold and the snow was still relatively undisturbed, only a few sets of footprints marring it's pristine appearance.

Venturing into the yard, Josie caught sight of Cassandra and Bull doing some early morning work outs. Cassandra clearly had the upper hand - Iron Bull was on the defensive and losing ground all the time. A bash to the Qunari man's face via Cassandra's shield prompted the ambassador to look away - the spray of blood was rather impressive. Josie would have been worried, but that was immediately followed by Bull's sonorous boom of, "Yeah, Seeker! Now you're getting it!"

Some of the younger inhabitants were camped near the Herald's rest, building snowmen or making shapes in the snow. Neither Miri or Balor were among them, Josie noted, continuing on her journey. The Antivan was starting to get chilly, even beneath her cloak, so she picked up her stride.

Josie found them near the stables but didn't immediately reveal herself to the couple and the children, instead choosing to hide herself behind an unattended stall. After all, Josie had always been a romantic.

The Champion and the Inquisitor were quite the sight - a perfect picture of winter delight. Valena was especially beautiful today. She'd donned a vibrant red cloak trimmed in white fur, her cheeks and nose were slightly reddened and her laughter rang out, tinkling through the air with a joy seldom heard from the woman. Valena's head was throne back, her shoulders shook and her face beamed with such mirth, she seemed to glow with an otherworldly light. Hawke wore a similar grin as he looked on, the love in his gaze almost palpable. He held Miri on his hip, her little mitten clad hands wrapped tightly around his neck, her head resting against his strong shoulder, and Balor sat between them, doing his best to try and make a snowball. The frustrated and determined look on the lads face was adorable.

"Grey!" Valena gasped, breathless from her laughter. "You shouldn't say such things about Vivienne!" she exclaimed.

Grey shrugged. "Why not? She _is_ an ice witch." As if to punctuate his point, the man held out the hand that was not currently occupied with the little half-elf, palm up. For a moment, Josie could not tell what was happening from her vantage point, but then the swirling of the flurries intensified over his palm. It was almost like a miniature snow storm over his hand, dispersing with an audible puff a moment later and revealing an ice figurine with a very recognizable ornamental headpiece, presenting it to a giggling Miri with a smirk.

The little girl took it delicately in her mitten clad hands. "Papa!" she laughed, half delighted and half reproving. "It's not nice to say such mean things about Miss Vivi."

"If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all!" Balor chimed in from where he was seated on the snowy floor.

Valena beamed proudly at her son. "That's right, Balor."

Hawke sighed. "I guess I'm not allowed to talk anymore. I'm nothing but a big ol' meany."

The Inquisitor strode forward, seeming to float across the snow, and she came to wrap her arms around the man and her daughter. "You're my meany," she said with a radiant smile. Hawke's smile matched hers as he stooped to her height, his lips meeting hers. They broke apart when Miri made a sound of disgust, both laughing. Lovingly, Valena swiped at the dark fringe of Grey's hair where it brushed his thick eyebrows. "Your hair's getting long again," she noted.

"Yeah. That much closer to being a rugged mountain man," he joked. Grey pressed a quick kiss to Miri's head and set her down, where the girl quickly went and tackled her brother, both children rolling through the snow. The champion took a quick look to make sure neither of the children were watching them and then wrapped his arms around Valena, pulling her flush against him. They were so close, the woman had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. From this distance, Josie couldn't hear what he said, since he lowered his voice, but she was able to see it when Valena blushed vividly and pushed at his chest, trying to get out of his tight embrace. Grey chuckled, holding her to him effortlessly. "I'm just teasing you, Valena."

The elf rolled her eyes but gave up on escaping his hold. "You are a terrible, wicked man," she declared, but the grin that never slipped from her lips ruined her statement.

" _Your_ terrible, wicked man," Grey amended.

Valena's eyes twinkled. "That you are."

Josie decided that the matter was not urgent enough to disrupt the little burgeoning family and quietly swept away from where she'd hidden herself, swiftly making her way back into the hold. Her heart was full, her mood light. There was nothing quite like new love and witnessing such a sweet moment between two living legends was a whole new level of romantic.

Instead of heading back to her office and her duties as ambassador, Josie headed up towards the top of the rotunda. Leliana would want to hear all about this, after all.

* * *

Hawke was tired. He'd just returned from a fact finding mission at Adamant to find out what the Grey Wardens were up to. His face was red and sore from windburn, his entire body ached and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep for three days, but it was not to be. Unfortunately, this was not Kirkwall and he had people to report to. He missed only being accountable to himself. He had been excited to see Valena but was disappointed when he only met with the three advisers and the woman Hawke (not so) affectionately referred to as, "witch," aloud and "witch bitch," in his head.

As Grey gave his report to the advisers, he grew more and more weary of their presence and the lack of Valena's. What was worse, no one offered explanation for her absence nor offered to go fetch her. The advisers and the witch bickered. Grey was too tired to tell them to shut up.

When the meeting around the war table dispersed, it was well after dark and even if Valena was somewhere around the keep, she and her little ones would be settling down for the evening. Excepting the one night where he'd slept with Balor and Miri and Valena had later joined them, Valena and Grey had yet to spend the night together and it seemed... inappropriate to do so while she still shared her quarters with her children. As of recent, the Inquisitor had begun to discuss plans to move her children into their own rooms but she wasn't certain Balor was ready for that kind of change yet.

Grey went to the Herald's Rest and threw a couple back with Dorian and Varric before heading back to his quarters to prepare for a fitful sleep.

Suspicion roused in Grey as he approached the door to his room and noticed that it was cracked open. That was unusual. Did a servant come to switch his sheets and forget to shut the door all the way? No, there was a slight glow from within that denoted someone was inside with a fire in the hearth. Grey didn't know what to think about that. An assassin wouldn't be so careless and announce themselves in such a fashion but he couldn't think of a reason anyone would be inside his quarters.

Grey didn't draw his staff but he was ready to as he slowly pushed the door open, cursing internally when it made a loud creak. However, his caution turned out to be unnecessary. A set of vibrant green eyes rose from the book in her lap. "Good evening, dearest," she greeted, a small, playful smile gracing her lips.

"Valena?"

One slim brow arched. "The one and only."

It might have been the sleep deprivation talking but Grey was absolutely not comprehending this. "What are you doing in my room?"

Valena's smile quirked to one side and he thought he might have seen her shoulders shaking just a touch with repressed laughter. "Actually," she began delicately, gently closing the book in her lap and putting it on the little table beside her. It was then that Hawke noticed that she'd had a blanket draped over her lap as well, since she moved it, revealing her smooth, bare legs. The silvery tones of the scars that crisscrossed all over her legs seemed to glow in the firelight and he was entirely captivated. He'd never seen her bare legged before. Seeming agonizingly slow to the champion, she slowly extended her legs and pushed herself up until she was standing before him. Suddenly, her legs were the least of his worries. "I was hoping you could tell me."

Later, upon reflection of that moment, Grey was entirely certain his brain just broke. Shut down. Put up a "sorry, shop's closed" sign. That was the only explanation he had for what happened next.

Grey saw that Valena was clad in nothing more than one of his tunics and suddenly, she was up against the wall and he was kissing her more forcefully than he's ever kissed anyone. The woman beneath him gasped as her back hit the wall, allowing him access to her mouth. After that, she was like putty in his hands. She molded to him, kissed him back just as thoroughly. Her fingers, deft and lithe, slipped towards the laces on his jerkin, clearly seeking to relieve him of it. Instantly, he pulled back and caught her wrists. "No," he breathed.

"No?" she gasped, bewildered. Her eyes searched his, beseeching.

Grey smiled wickedly. "Not yet," he amended. He released her wrists and stooped to wrap one thick, well muscled arm around the back of one thigh, using the other arm to balance her as he hoisted her up. She gasped, clinging tightly to him with one hand, her other hand seeking purchase against the grey stone at her back. Her thighs wrapped around his waist, seemingly without any input from her. Grey shifted his hold so that her cradled her firm ass, supporting her where the wall couldn't, leaving the other arm to snake up behind her and wrap in her thick red tresses, hungrily pulling her to him for another scorching kiss.

Valena was lost in a world of sensation. In all the time she'd known him, she'd never known Grey to be so bold, so forceful with her... and she was loving every second. How many times had she wished that he'd spin her around and kiss her, unexpectedly? Too many to count. But getting him to kiss her had been like pulling teeth. She'd expected to be the initiator tonight, too, but it had taken very little before he took over. If she'd known that showing up in his quarters, clad only in one of his tunics was the magic lever she needed to pull, she might have done as much a year ago. He pulled back from her mouth and began to pepper her jaw bone with loving kisses, descending down her neck, the thick scruff of his beard rubbing against her skin in a way she could only describe as incredibly sensual.

The Inquisitor had been unsure what to expect when it came to tonight. They'd discussed their histories, sure, and Valena had learned from Varric that Isabela was hardly a demure lady, but on all accounts, it had seemed that it had been nigh on a decade since Hawke's last dalliance. If time had dulled any of his skills, she shuddered at the thought of how it would be once he was... back in practice, so to speak.

Her tunic - or, more accurately, his tunic - being yanked to the side so he could kiss across her breastbone pulled the elf out of her musings and back into the moment. Looking down and seeing the tunics lacing hanging open indecently as Grey's mouth roved across her chest made the warmth already building low in her abdomen ratchet up a notch.

Valena's fingers tangled in Grey's thick raven hair, just starting to go a little grey around the temples, and pulled his head back so that she could press her mouth to his. He obliged with a deep groan as their mouths pressed together bruising. He pulled back far sooner than she'd have liked.

"Please." Valena didn't register that the breathy moan had come from her until it resounded again, "Pleeeease."

If she hadn't wanted this so bad, she'd be embarrassed about the wan tone of her voice or how she was _begging_ him to ravage her. As it was, she couldn't find the shame through all her lust.

Grey was not in a merciful mood. The cool tingle of magic encircled her wrists, pulling them back from where she'd wrapped them in his hair. The smirk he wore was equal parts wicked and absolute ego. "Be patient, my lady," he teased, though the huskiness in his voice betrayed just how much he wanted to give in to her begging. "I promise, the wait will be worth it."

And it was worth it. Valena briefly struggled, trying to combat his force magic with her abilities as a knight enchanter but her careful years of control and discipline failed her and she was completely unable to break his hold. Grey smiled at her almost pitiful attempts and continued to worship her body, laving every exposed inch with kisses. He'd waited too long for her, wanted this too bad to let her push him into speeding up and stop his ministrations before he was completely and utterly satisfied. He went all the way down to her feet, pushing the tunic up as he made his way back up, exposing her silky black smalls. She groaned, her head lolling against the stone behind her, causing him to grin. Mischievously, he kissed up her thighs, as he'd planned, but planted a single kiss on her sex through the smooth, black material.

Valena gave a deep, choked moan and bucked violently against him. "Oh," she groaned. "You are a _wicked_ man."

That was Grey's breaking point.

The Champion shot to his feet, released his magical hold, swept her away from the wall and practically threw her on the bed. He crawled over her and didn't attempt to stop her as her fingers went to the jerkin this time, instead helping her. It felt like it took forever to get the damn thing unlaced and he wasn't the least bit upset when Valena growled in frustration and a small, magical blade appeared, slicing through the remaining laces. He growled back, unbelievably aroused by her fervor, yanking off the leather as soon as it fell slack. Valena's hands were at the bottom of his shirt before he'd even fully shirked the jerkin and his tunic soon followed, leaving him bare chested. She surged upward, kissing along his collar bone in a way that made him want to let his eyes roll back in his head as she sucked and nibbled.

The disappointment he felt when she pulled back was immense but immediately stemmed when he felt her hands go to the laces on his trousers. If he thought he had the control to do so, he'd have incinerated the damn trousers, but at this point, he probably would have only set the bed on fire. So he helped her and as soon as they were slack enough, he started pulling them off, leaving him clad only in his smalls. "Your turn," he breathed, his fingers going to the hem of her tunic.

He didn't pull it up right away though. Grey hesitated, fingering the edge of the tunic until her hands joined his and they pulled it over her head together. Valena was certain about this - certain about him.

Both of their smalls soon joined the rapidly growing pile of clothing on the floor as the two joined passionately.

Valena didn't know how long they went on like that and she lost count of how many times they made love that night. What she did know was that waking up in his arms the next morning, safe, warm and well satiated felt right. Valena had fallen asleep facing the window and she could see the early dawn starting color the horizon. Grey's hand lay slack a few inches from her face as she'd fallen asleep on one of his arms. The other was slung lazily over her hip and the weight of him being there was very reassuring. Valena tried her best to turn without disturbing him but it turned out to be in vain. Grey's eyes were bright and fixed on her as she turned to face him - clearly, he'd been awake all along.

"Hey," she whispered softly, her eyes running over his mussed, early morning appearance appreciatively. Of course, she'd seen him fresh out of bed innumerable times before but this morning was different. His smile almost seemed to glow.

Grey chuckled. "Hey." He leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss on her lips and she didn't even care that his early morning breath wasn't the best.

When they pulled back, she gave him a shy little grin. "That was... amazing."

"Careful," Grey replied, teasingly, "or my ego will get too big for this room."

Exasperated, Valena rolled her eyes and playfully smacked his chest. "Wicked man," she remarked, pulling the blankets tighter against her chest.

Grey smiled, tightening the loose hold he had on her to draw her closer, kissing her on the forehead. "It _was_ amazing," he agreed. " _You're_ amazing. And I am a very, very, very lucky man." The Champion held her close, reluctant to let her go, reluctant to let this night pass into morning. He wanted to remember everything about last night - their first night together. Returning to the hum drum of every day seemed like the worst fate that could befall them today.

"Now whose stoking whose ego," she asked, though slightly muffled since she was still pressed into his chest.

"I stroked more than just your ego," Grey replied easily, chuckling when she gasped and smacked his chest again but preventing her from pulling back. "In fact, I think I'm ready for some more stroking," he said lasciviously, and lowered his mouth onto hers to halt any protests she might have made.

Out in the hall, Scout Jim was heading towards the Champions room on behalf of the Commander when he came across a pair of maids giggling with their ears pressed to the door. "Hey!" Jim called out, catching both the maids off guard. "What are you doing there?"

The two young women immediately straightened and made to step away from the door. "Sorry, ser," the taller of the two girls said, voice pitched low. "We came to attend to the Champions quarters and found them to be... occupied." Her companion smacked a hand over her lips in order to stifle the giggle that threatened and even the taller of the two seemed hard pressed not let more girlish laughter out.

Scout Jim's eyebrows furrowed. "Occupied... how?" he asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

As if to answer his question, a long, deep groan sounded from the bedroom. The maids pressed their hands to their mouths to silence their laughter and Jim's eyebrows shot to his hairline. Oh... _occupied_.

The smaller of the two maids glanced at the door. "I would tell the Commander that the Champion is... busy. He seems to be quite enjoying the Inquisitor's company and I don't think he'd tolerate an interruption right now. Nor would she." Punctuating her point, a more feminine gasp rang through the door this time, causing Jim's cheeks to flare pink. Thinking about the Inquisitor in such a compromising position... indeed.

Jim about-faced and immediately went to report back to Commander Cullen, already thinking up ways he could explain the Champion's absence when he paused and turned around to see the two maids had resumed their positions with their ears pressed to the door. "If they catch you two listening, they might send you to the Wastes... just food for thought."

The two women looked at each other and then scampered off in the opposite direction. Jim sighed. "Commander," he said to himself as he headed back towards Cullen's office in the battlements. "I'm sorry the Champion was unavailable, ser. The Inquisitor needed his undivided attention."


End file.
